The Rose
by coalitiongirl
Summary: The Watchers Academy- where young potential slayers and watchers go to train in demonology, magic, and combat so that they can someday fight vampires, demons, and the forces of evil... ensemble fic, full summary inside
1. Chapter 1

_The Watchers Academy- where young potential slayers and watchers go to train in demonology, magic, and combat so that they can someday fight vampires, demons, and the forces of evil. There are evil magic professors, a principal with a secret, and an unbreachable wall between the slayers and the watchers. And in the basement, imprisoned vampires scheme and dream of destroying them all..._

I'm doing this Joss-style, with characters getting their own intertwining plots and one overall plot for the fic. (Buffy, of course, will be the main character.) Because of that, the Spuffy will be a while in coming, but I hope you'll stick with me until I get there...

There are some scenes of dubious consent in this fic. These will pop up near the middle of the fic (I will warn) and won't involve Spike or Buffy at all. The actual scenes aren't very graphic, if you're worried about squick.

Oh, and one last thing- since there are so many characters, many of them will get pairings, and few of those pairings will just be "background noise." So I've compiled a list of some of the pairings for this fic here, for those of you who want to see it: coalitiongirl(dot)livejournal(dot)com/69059(dot)html. But consider them all spoilers.

* * *

The first time she'd seen him, she'd been an innocent four-year-old on her way home. They'd scheduled for a matinee showing of The Lion King, but her father had suddenly had an important meeting and Buffy had had a tantrum in the middle of the strange lady-friend of Hank's office until her father had agreed that they'd go to the late-night showing. They only had three days in New York, after all, and what her mother didn't know about Buffy's bedtime wouldn't hurt her.

After the show, Buffy was still wide awake and her stomach was rumbling, so Hank decided to take her out for burgers. She'd drifted off in the restaurant, and when she'd awakened, she was on the couch in an unfamiliar apartment instead of their hotel room.

"Daddy?" She rose, unafraid, and peeked into the next room, a very white and clean kitchen, not like theirs in LA at all. The lady from earlier that day was in there, wearing a long, button-down shirt that looked oddly familiar. She jumped when she saw Buffy. "Hank, your kid's up!"

"Where's my Daddy?" Buffy asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Right here!" Her father scooped her up from behind, tickling her as she shrieked in delight.

She giggled. "Where are we, Daddy?" Her forehead creased. "And why are you wearing a robe? Are you going to sleep now, too? Cuz I just woke up, and I'm not tired."

"Buffy, honey," Hank glanced back at the lady with an expression that little Buffy couldn't fathom. "You fell asleep, and Tracy lives around here, so I took you here to sleep while we did some work."

The lady snorted. Buffy scowled up at her. She didn't like her at all. "Can we go back to the hotel now?"

"Of course," Hank said hastily, helping her into her coat. "And guess what? We'll even take the subway home! It'll be so much fun! First The Lion King, then burgers, then the subway…"

"And a sleepover!" Buffy added brightly.

"But mostly the subway!" Hank reminded her, shooing her back to the couch for a few moments before he emerged again, fully dressed.

Buffy was eager to see it. She'd never been on the subway when it wasn't packed with people, and so she sat next to her father readily, swinging her legs back and forth as she hummed "The Circle of Life" and stared with avid interest at the three muttering men with the funny voices who shared their subway car.

They changed trains halfway back to the hotel, as did the other men, and they all waited for the next train in silence. Buffy didn't like the quiet much, didn't like the suspicious glances the men and her father shot at each other, so she marched over to the nicest-looking man and stuck out her hand. "Hello. I'm Buffy."

Hank hurried after her. "I'm sorry. She's just being friendly."

The man smiled down at her, his eyes crinkling. "Not at all," he said in his funny voice. He shook her hand respectfully. "I'm Rupert. This is Bernard and Rutherford."

Buffy giggled. "Those are funny names."

"We're funny people," Rupert smiled, and then he turned to Hank, his voice suddenly hard as steel. "As soon as the train gets here, get on immediately. Don't look back." He flashed open his jacket to show Hank something that made her father nod curtly. Buffy squinted at it. It was some kind of badge. "Government business."

"I see." Hank didn't look happy about it, but he hoisted Buffy up into his arms despite her protests, and the instant the train pulled into the station, he carried her in and sat down stiffly.

Buffy wriggled out of his grasp and pressed her nose to the window to see why Rupert and the others hadn't followed them on. "Daddy! Look!" She could see, in the car next to them, a dark-skinned woman limping out of the car. Bernard took her hastily into his arms, and Rutherford stood in front of the door to keep it from closing. Rupert however, went all the way in, and Buffy ran to the side window to see what was in the car.

A man lay unconscious on the ground, and Buffy gasped at the sight of him. He was all in black, but he had such a pretty face that he looked like a Disney prince. Or maybe the hero from one of those cartoon shows, instead, since his hair was a funny white color that didn't look real at all. He was bleeding all over, though, beautiful, pale skin marred by long scratches and bruised discolorations.

She breathed a sigh of relief when Rupert bent down to sprinkle something powdery on his face and slung the man over his shoulder. Rupert would help him get better. She just knew it.

"Buffy!" her father said warningly, still facing forward rigidly. "Come back here, now."

She cast one more longing look at the prince before reluctantly returning to her seat.

* * *

She could speak of nothing else for days, completely forgetting the earlier half of the night and instead enthusiastically telling her mother all about the men she'd met on the subway. For weeks afterward, her drawings were all of the scene she'd seen and the man who'd been hurt, and she told all her friends the story in rapidly exaggerating details, the subway darker, the prince prettier, and the wounds more gruesome, until Lana's mother spoke to hers and she wasn't allowed to talk about it anymore.

It took years before an older and wiser Buffy realized that what she had seen wasn't a prince being saved, but a bad man being arrested. By the time she turned eight, she barely remembered the episode at all, and once she turned ten, she couldn't have told anyone more about that night than that she'd seen The Lion King.

Ironically, it was when she was ten that she met one of the characters from that night again.

* * *

She'd gone to a friend after school that day. Kimberly was eleven even though she was in Buffy's class, and she was therefore much more sophisticated than Buffy. They gave each other makeovers with raspberry-scented lip gloss and sparkly pink nail polish, then went outside to play with the boys, running shrieking down the street when Kimberly's brothers and his friends started pulling their hair and chasing them with worms dangling from their hands.

When it started getting dark, Kimberly's big sister walked Buffy the two blocks back to her house, and Buffy ran inside eagerly, ready to tell her mother about her day. "Mommy! Kimberly did my nails! See? It's so-" She stopped, confused at the sight that greeted her.

Both her parents were sitting on one sofa- a feat in itself, since she couldn't remember the last time her mother and father had been in the same room together- facing two men and a woman Buffy had never seen before. Her parents looked tense, but the strangers seemed confident and relaxed. They were all watching Buffy with eyes she could only describe as…hungry. And suddenly she was sure that _she_was why they were here.

"Hello, Buffy," one man said softly in an accented voice.

"Who are you?" she asked bluntly, ignoring the reproachful look from her mother.

He smiled at her. "My name is Rupert Giles. I'm the headmaster of a school in England."

Buffy shrugged, still wary. "Okay." She turned to go upstairs, still vaguely uncomfortable. On the top stair, where she was certain that she couldn't be seen, she crouched down to eavesdrop.

Her mother was speaking in a low, angry voice. "You can't just come into our home and inform us that our child has to go with you! You have no right!"

"This isn't about rights!" Mr. Giles retorted. "Your daughter has a sacred destiny. She will be a slayer, a girl with superhuman powers and a duty to fight evil. She must be trained, and by those equipped to deal with it!"

Buffy squeezed onto the banister, her hands trembling. What were they talking about? Buffy wasn't special. Not like Sarah, who always got 100's on her tests, or Ricky, who was left-handed. Buffy was normal, and boring, except that she had a funny name that the boys used to laugh at until Kimberly socked one in the nose.

"It all sounds pretty hokey to me," her father muttered. "Superpowers? Evil? What is this, a comic book?"

"I assure you that the danger is quite real," Mr. Giles said.

"And it's very likely that Buffy is in more danger now than she ever would be at our facility," the other man spoke up. He was also British, like Mr. Giles, but he didn't sound calm at all.

"Are you threatening her?" Hank growled.

"Certainly not!" From the sound of it, Mr. Giles had just stood up abruptly. "But a potential slayer is at great risk from the demon world. Once they find her, they will try to eliminate what they perceive as a potential threat! As long as she remains here, unprotected, she will be a target!"

Buffy chewed her lip worriedly. This didn't sound good. She hugged her arms around her legs, waiting to hear what came next.

"Right." Her father sounded unconvinced. "So why haven't any of these so-called 'demons' attacked her before?"

"I'm certain they have," the other man added. "We have several cells of Watchers located in Los Angeles whose jobs include keeping individuals like your daughter safe. Now that she's older, however, it's time for her to learn to defend herself."

"By sending her to a boarding school in England?" her mother said skeptically.

Buffy peeked down the stairs just in time to see her father rise. "Mr. Giles, I'm sorry, but nothing you've said has convinced me that it's necessary to send Buffy to this Watchers Academy. It sounds more like a practical joke, or like you might need some help. And I'm only going to say this once." He stalked around the coffee table to stare Mr. Giles in the eyes. "You stay the hell away from my daughter."

Mr. Giles seemed neither intimidated nor surprised. "Fair enough," he said agreeably, pulling a small paper out of his pocket and handing it to Buffy's mother. "My card, if you change your mind." He headed for the door, the other visitors in tow, stopping for only a moment to glance up the stairs at Buffy and toss her another smile, one laden with calm assurance. A smile that said, _I'll be seeing you again_.

Buffy gulped.


	2. Chapter 2

They started coming the next day.

Hank and Joyce had been distracted all day, caught up in their worries about Mr. Giles's visit and yet unwilling to accept it as any more than concern that a crackpot might be stalking their daughter. Buffy, meanwhile, milked their distress for all it was worth, getting ice cream for breakfast from her mother and getting driven in to school by her father for the first time since her first day of school.

She wasn't worried, though. She was _special_. "Kimberly?" she asked at recess. "Are you a slayer?"

Kimberly shrugged. "I don't know. What's a slayer?"

Nicki didn't know, either. Neither did Lakisha, or Jason, or even Sarah. Ricky said that he was a slayer, but Ricky always lied about these things.

At recess, she watched her friends play from the side of the schoolyard, feeling very superior. Buffy was part of something big, something grownup that made people come from England to see her. People like…

She squinted across the yard at the figure standing in the corner near the fence. It almost looked like the woman from the night before, who had been with Mr. Giles. As she watched, the woman turned to stare steadily at her, long enough for her to make eye contact with Buffy. Buffy blinked, and the woman was gone, so completely that she wondered if she'd imagined her.

Later, she'd received a note from the office informing her that her father would be picking her up, too, so she sat patiently on the stairs to the school and waited for him to arrive. She wasn't surprised when he didn't come until every other kid had been picked up. Her father was always like that.

What did surprise her was when the enormous horned creature came hurtling toward her, slavering viscous yellow mucus from what was probably its mouth and roaring deafeningly as she screamed in horror.

She stumbled away from it, letting the terror overwhelm her and carry her away from the school at a faster speed than she'd ever run before, twisting midway to see if the monster was following her. Its mouth twisted into some sort of grotesque sneer that made her shudder with fear and keep running. TV monsters never looked like that!

She passed the fence surrounding the schoolyard when she was struck by an idea. Lacing her hands between the chains, she jumped upwards, finding purchase against the side of the fence. Her small feet found footholds between the metal chains, carrying her up the screen and stopping only when she reached the barbed wire at the top.

Below her, the monster yanked at the barrier, and she discovered something horrifying. It couldn't break the metal fence, but it could bend and shake it, sending Buffy flying. She grasped blindly as she lost her hold, screaming in agony as her hands wrapped around the sharp barbed wire.

_Gotta get over the top, gotta get over the top…_ Determination overpowered the pain, and she pulled herself higher, ignoring her cut and bleeding hands. The barbed wire tore at her new jeans, sliced at the soles of her shoes, but only once she'd passed over and landed safely on the other side did she allow herself to recognize the pain she was in. She watched with wide eyes as the monster howled in fury and tried uselessly to tear down the fence, huddling in the back corner and letting out gasping, frightened sobs as the monster gave one last shove at the fence and finally retreated.

And that was where Hank found her twenty minutes later. 

* * *

"You did this!" Hank shouted into the phone. "I won't respond to blackmail!"

Buffy curled against her mother, still shaking from her earlier experience. Her hands and legs were tightly bandaged in so much white gauze that she looked like a mummy, but she still felt like she was bleeding everywhere, like the monster would hunt her down and take her…

"I can't accept that!" Hank was growling now, and Buffy hid herself under her mother's arm.

"Enough!" Joyce hissed at her husband. "Take it outside! You're scaring Buffy."

Hank rolled his eyes at her, but shut himself into his study with a half-hearted grunt of irritation. Buffy raised anxious eyes to her mother. "It was really strong, Mommy. What if it can get into our house?"

Joyce stroked her hair. "Don't worry. Your father is talking to that Mr. Giles, and he's going to take care of it. Okay?"

"Okay." Buffy was silent again as she thought about it. "I don't want to go to school tomorrow," she informed her mother.

"I don't want you to go, either," Joyce agreed.

Hank emerged from his study, looking annoyed. "That bastard."

"Hank!" Joyce said, aghast at his language. Buffy wasn't as shocked. Hank said things like that all the time when he drove with her.

Hank slammed his phone on the table. "He says that since we're not sending Buffy to him, they've removed the protection over her. As if they can blackmail us! Don't they know who I am?" He clenched his jaw. "I'll have a lawsuit on them by morning, I swear-"

"And what are you going to say?" Joyce asked tersely. "A crazy British man set a monster on me? You'll be the laughingstock of the entire legal community."

"What else am I supposed to do?" Hank demanded. "Dammit, Joyce, our little girl was almost killed tonight!"

Buffy started to cry. Not that she didn't want to anyway, but she also found that crying on cue was the best way to separate her parents and end their fights. And immediately, Joyce gathered Buffy into her arms worriedly. "What's wrong, sweetie?"

Buffy sniffled and peeked up at her mother's concerned face. "I want to go to bed now."

She dreamt of demons and vampires all night, until she climbed into her parents' bed and snuggled into the comforting embrace of her mother. 

* * *

It took another two days before Buffy was ready to go back to school, and only an hour after she'd left before the next demon attacked. Melanie had invited her over, and Buffy had almost said no, but Melanie was the new coolest kid in the class and she had the special edition Barbie Dreamhouse. Even monsters couldn't keep her away…no matter how enormous and nasty they were.

"Meet me in the yard," Melanie ordered, opening the refrigerator. "I'll get the juice."

Buffy stepped out into the dimly lit backyard, smiling at the woman who was seated at the patio table. "Are you Melanie's mommy?"

The woman glanced at her with utter boredom. "Yeah, sure."

There was something about the way the woman looked at her that made Buffy's blood run cold. She edged back toward the door, but before she was halfway there, the woman was blocking her path and smiling with a predatory leer. "I don't think so."

"MELANIE!" But the woman was getting closer, and abruptly, her face distorted. Her eyes turned bright and yellow, her lips curled up to reveal long, ugly fangs, and her forehead _crunched_ into something bumpy and inhuman.

Melanie came to the door, saw the woman, and ran away screaming.

And it was then that Buffy decided that Melanie wasn't that cool, after all.

She bolted, the monster- the _vampire_¬¬- following at a slower pace, and she instinctively knew that the vampire could run faster. She was toying with Buffy, playing with her like some of the big kids did her classmates in the playground, watching them flee before catching up and stealing their toys.

Buffy felt a surge of rage at that thought. She might get eaten today, but at least she'd get eaten on her own terms! She turned to face the vampire, hands still scarred from her last supernatural encounter clenching into tight fists.

The vampire stopped, its amused golden eyes glowing in the dark. "Here, kitty, kitty, kitty," she purred, stalking forward.

"Stay back!" Buffy warned, grabbing the first thing she saw. "I'm gonna hurt you!"

The woman laughed. "That's a plastic baseball bat, sweet little snack." She moved with a surge of speed until she was grasping the bat with Buffy, and she easily pried Buffy's trembling fingers off of the bat to drop it. "You smell divine," she breathed, moving even closer.

Across the street, a motion-sensitive light went on, and both Buffy and the vampire looked up, startled. The woman with Mr. Giles- and now Buffy was positive it was her- stood silently, framed in the light, her watchful eyes fixed on Buffy and the vampire.

The vampire spat in disdain. "Figures." With a shove, she dropped Buffy to the ground and retreated, leaving Buffy gaping in wonder at her second chance at life. 

* * *

"I want to do it," she told her mother the next day, after the saggy-skinned demon with the funny tentacles had accosted her during recess and vanished when the other kids had noticed it. "I want to become a slayer."

"Buffy!" her mother gasped, putting an automatic hand on her forehead to check her temperature. "Do you know what you're saying?"

Buffy shrugged. "I want to be able to fight back," she said simply, remembering the vampire, its teeth on her neck and feelings of helplessness threatening to overcome her.

Her mother sighed heavily. "Your father is trying to convince Mr. Giles to assign you a full-time bodyguard. You're going to be fine." 

* * *

But she wasn't, not when they awakened to the smell of fire and found a dozen little gremlins on their lawn, laughing gleefully as they forced the Buffy and her family from their home. Her father rammed a few with his Bentley as they screeched away to a hotel to spend the night while the firefighters fought to preserve their house.

"The firemen don't know how to call Mr. Giles," Buffy mumbled tiredly from the backseat.

"I'm sure they'll be fine without him, honey," Hank said, terse fingers clenching the wheel until they turned white.

Buffy slouched down lower in her seat. "Whatever."

In the lobby of the hotel, she thought she saw the woman again, but she was gone before Buffy could point her out to her parents. Instead, she let her mother hurry her into a small room adjoined to the main one they reserved and lay down in a futile attempt to get some sleep.

No sooner had her eyes closed when there was a sound like a muted explosion and, in a flash of sparks, a hideous creature appeared in the center of her room, striding forward as she sat up and gathered the covers to her chest in fright.

It was humanoid in shape but for the shadowed, skeletal pattern that decorated its head and the sharp eyes that seemed to bore right through her. "Vengeance has been called, and vengeance shall I wreak!" the demon roared, and Buffy flinched.

"DADDYYYYYY!"

Hank Summers flung open the door from his room, recoiling at the sight of the demon. To his credit, he didn't flee, but instead ran swiftly to Buffy to stand between her and the monster. "Stay away from my daughter!" he growled.

The creature moved closer, her lip curling in a sneer. "I am Anyanka, patron saint to the scorned woman," she snapped. "Away!" She extended a hand, and Hank went flying across the room.

"I'll call the Watchers Academy on you," Hank threatened, and Buffy noted with relief that the monster backed up on that.

"You wouldn't," the demon hissed.

"I know Rupert Giles's number by heart," Hank informed it, lifting the hotel room phone as he spoke.

With a soft curse, the demon vanished in a whirl of smoke, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

Her father turned to stare at her with a sudden sadness. "Buffy…"

"I know," she whispered, her heart pounding. "I know." 

* * *

"You'll be able to send letters back and forth," Mr. Giles assured her as he helped her into the car. His male associate heaved the last of her luggage into the trunk. "You might be homesick at first, but the training for potential slayers is quite rigorous, and you'll find that it often distracts from family worries."

"_Potential_ slayers?" Buffy repeated curiously, but then her parents were coming out of the house and she had to run to them and give them one last hug.

"Make me proud," her mother murmured, wrapping her in her arms one last time. Buffy didn't cry. She was going to have to be strong if she was going to be a slayer. Instead, she stood smartly and extended a hand to her father.

He shook it, bemused, his eyes still hooded with worry. "Goodbye, Buffy-pie."

"Bye, Daddy," she said, kissing him on the cheek when he bent down for it. "I'll write to you."

And with one last hug for her mother, she headed for Mr. Giles's car.

This time, they had another passenger, the mysterious woman who now sat in the front seat, tapping manicured fingernails on the dashboard impatiently.

"Hello," Buffy said uncertainly.

"Ah, you've arrived!" Mr. Giles smiled warmly at the woman. "Allow me to introduce a friend of mine." He nodded to her. "Buffy, this is Anya. She isn't a teacher, but you'll probably see her at the Academy from time to time."

"He means he's shagging her," the other man informed them.

"Ethan!" Mr. Giles said reprovingly. Ethan smirked unrepentantly and took the seat beside Anya.

Mr. Giles joined Buffy in the backseat. "Are you ready?"

And there was nothing to do but nod.


	3. Chapter 3

She'd thought that the ride might be tense and uncomfortable, sandwiched between a window and a man she didn't know and left with more questions than answers. But while the adults didn't encourage her to speak- and she therefore didn't try, too timid in the face of new experience to start a conversation- there was an air of casual acceptance in the vehicle that relaxed her enough to turn a questioning face to Mr. Giles.

"We have a jet leaving from Sunnydale tonight," he explained from where he sat beside Buffy. "You're the last student we're picking up on this run, so you won't have to wait at all."

"Okay," Buffy said, peeking out the window to stare at the long expanse of highway ahead. "Where's Sunnydale?"

"About an hour more. There's an open Hellmouth there, so we often get recruits from the area. The other new students should all be gathered there already."

Buffy wanted to ask what a Hellmouth was, but then she remembered how much Sarah had laughed at her when she didn't know the answer in school and decided not to say anything. Instead, she listened quietly as Mr. Giles and Ethan chatted vaguely with occasional interjections from Anya. "I'm thinking about taking on some protégés," Ethan was saying. "The most talented watchers-in-training. Corrupt them unrepentantly."

"Perhaps." Mr. Giles was silent for a moment. "Only from the top of the class, of course. I don't want you introducing magic to some of those students who are more likely than not to lose all control and begin casting spells instead of studying Aramaic or Etruscan." He winced. "Like that new boy, what's his name, Harris?"

"I like him," Ethan drawled. "He's easily breakable. There's no way he'll make it through training."

"I think he'll manage," Mr. Giles remarked. "Not well, but he'll hang on by the skin of his teeth."

"We'll see." Ethan sped the car up, and they were soon whizzing down the road as fast as Buffy's father liked to drive. "The only reason we took him on was that redhead friend of his. Now _she's_ got promise. I wouldn't mind getting my hands on her."

"She's not going to be summoning me in a few years, is she?" Anya asked sternly, and Mr. Giles let out something like a choked cough.

"Ethan does have quite the obsession with the girls," he murmured, loud enough for all of them to hear. Ethan chuckled unashamedly, but Buffy swallowed, creeping unease settling over her at the amusement she could see in his eyes in the rearview mirror. There was an odd hunger in his gaze, one that chilled her for the first time since she'd gotten into the car with three strangers.

But Mr. Giles noticed her worry and put a calming hand on her shoulder. "Ah, we're frightening Buffy. It was only a bit of humor," he assured her. "Ethan- Mr. Rayne- is one of our professors of magic at the school. The girls tend to excel in magic, while the boys are more partial to combat. You, of course, will be in potential slayer training and learn very little magic."

"Magic!" Buffy's eyes rounded. "Like…bunnies in hats?"

"Oh! You're a wicked little thing!" Anya growled from the front seat, and Buffy backed up a little closer to Mr. Giles in fear. "Why would you bring up something like that so close to the Hellmouth?"

"Anya, really." Mr. Giles awkwardly patted Buffy's shoulder. "She didn't mean anything by it."

Anya looked unconvinced, and Buffy was again acutely aware that she didn't know any of these people very well at all. "Honest, I didn't!" she whispered, pressing back into the seat behind her.

Mr. Giles smiled, reassuring. "I know, Anya's just a bit touchy about our…" he glanced up. Anya was watching him, her eyes narrowed. "Hoppy friends."

They stopped at a gas station then, and Anya joined them in the backseat to curl against Mr. Giles. Buffy sat on his other side awkwardly, not knowing where she belonged.

Finally, once Anya had stopped shooting glares at her and Ethan had stopped humming funeral marches, Buffy ventured, "What's a potential slayer?"

Mr. Giles launched into an explanation about how in every generation, one slayer was called, and once she died, the next would be chosen from the potential slayers. Buffy was one of these girls, who might someday become the slayer.

"But I thought… you said that I was the slayer!" Buffy remembered. "That I was a superhero and I would fight vampires and demons!"

"You might be," Mr. Giles allowed. "There are only a few potentials around your age, and many of them will be called, depending on how successful the slayer is."

"How many potentials?" Buffy demanded suspiciously. She'd left home because she wanted to protect her family from demons, not to wait around until she was Chosen! What if she was never called? What if she wasted the next year or two and never learned to fight for herself?

"Approximately thirty in your generation," Mr. Giles said. "Of course, there's no chance any of you will be called before age fourteen. So you'll train to become slayers and if you aren't called by the time you turn twenty, you'll be given the option of completing Watcher training or working in teams to fight demons with your fellow potentials." He smiled down at her. "It's quite a privilege to fight for the side of good, regardless of whether or not you're called. I trust that you'll come to understand that in the Academy."

"I guess." Buffy slouched in her seat, staring out the window blankly. She was relieved when they finally pulled into a lot just past the _Welcome to Sunnydale!_ sign and she could see several other kids her own age climbing into a small jet.

An elderly woman hurried over to the car. "Where have you been? We nearly left without you!"

Mr. Giles sighed. "There were…unforeseen circumstances, Diana. I trust the other students are prepared?"

"Two more watchers from Sunnydale, two others aside from that, and the Boston potential," Diana confirmed. "Yet again, there seems to be an excess of watchers-in-training."

"Cordelia will be so displeased," Ethan said dryly.

"I don't give a damn about Cordelia," Mr. Giles retorted, his upper lip curling in distaste. Buffy wondered who Cordelia was. Another principal, maybe?

"Travers does," another man said, pulling open the door for Buffy. This one was much younger than the others and despite that, seemed far sterner than any of the other teachers that she'd met. "Or, I might say, Travers gives a damn about what Cordelia tells her parents."

"He doesn't give a damn about Travers, either," Ethan observed, holding out a hand to help Anya up. She gave him a scornful look and- Buffy blinked- she was suddenly standing behind him, faster than Buffy could see. _How'd she-?_

"You must be Buffy!" Diana said smilingly from behind her, extending a hand. "It's an honor to meet another potential. You never know when one of you girls is going to save the world, no?"

Buffy shook her hand uncertainly. "How do you do?" she tried tentatively.

"How do you do?" the woman responded, gesturing for Buffy to follow her. "We'll be taking off shortly, just as soon as Rupert- that's Giles to you- has your luggage loaded. Wesley!" She turned to motion to the stern watcher who had opened the car door for Buffy. "Are you coming?"

"You're also a teacher at the Watchers Academy?" Buffy asked curiously, traipsing after her.

Diana shook her head. "I'm a professor at Harvard University. I monitor matters in Boston with a team of potentials and watchers, but I don't return to England often. I'm only here to bring faith to Rupert."

"Faith?" Was she like those missionaries who came to the door sometimes, trying to get Hank and Joyce to accept Jesus into their lives? Buffy wasn't supposed to open the door for them, not even to give them a few dollars. She couldn't imagine that Mr. Giles had much use for one of them in his work.

Diana beamed at her. "I think you two will get along quite well. Go on up." She nodded to the steps up to the jet, and Buffy ascended them shakily.

She poked her head into the actual plane, and smiled tentatively at the five other children seated comfortably on couches to her right. "Hi. I'm Buffy."

"I'm Faith," said the first girl, a very pretty brunette who looked about Buffy's age and wore a worn shirt and a very dirty pair of jeans. _Ohh._ "You're the other potential?" She was sitting alone, distant from the other kids.

"Yeah." Buffy moved to sit next to her, feeling a sudden surge of camaraderie. This girl was like her, taken from her home because someday, she might fight demons. "I'm from LA. You're from Boston, right?"

"I'm Andrew," a sandy-haired boy said hopefully from her other side. "I'm going to be a watcher, to help defend the mighty slayers from their foes, like my brother Tucker before me. This is Jonathan." He nodded to the boy behind him, who was sort of stumpy and morose and barely looked up to acknowledge her.

"I'm Fred!" a girl burst out. "I'm so excited to start at the Watchers Academy and study all sorts of languages, and magic, and do you think there'll be real demons there? I once saw a Fyarl demon, well actually a photograph of one, and it was huge and mucus-y and I could hardly believe that such a thing existed! But my grandfather- he's a watcher, you know, but my mom wasn't interested, I guess it skips a generation?- he told me all about demons and he's even fought a bunch and you don't really care, do you?" She looked at Buffy expectantly.

Buffy stared at the girl. Had she asked a question in there somewhere? "Yes?" she guessed. The girl's face fell.

"Yeah, yeah, that one's Tara and that's all," Faith said impatiently. "They're not like us, Buffy. They're training to be watchers. They can never be Chosen."

"Oh." And Buffy moved closer to Faith, sensing a wall come up between her and the ones who weren't special. Not like the potentials. 

* * *

"It hurts!" the dark-haired woman cried out in agony, thrashing about in her cage, slashing long, bloody streaks down her own stomach. "Oh, the pain! The pain!"

"Get up," Collins snarled, shoving the cattle prod at her impatiently. The woman wailed even louder, and her mate threw himself against his own cage in a useless attempt to get to her. "Get up, and we'll take you to your precious Spike, bitch!"

Immediately, she fell silent, and asked in a remarkably lucid voice, "My Spike?"

"Your Spike," Weatherby confirmed, opening the cage carefully. Their collars had never failed them before, but Drusilla, unpredictable as she was, had rarely shown any sign of being affected by their magic. Luckily, they had other ways to get her to do their bidding.

She followed the watchers to the next cage obediently, smiling a child's beam at the vampire who tensely awaited her, flashing blue eyes warming only when they settled on her. "You have twenty-four hours," Collins told him. "Calm her down, help her heal. We need her at full strength by tomorrow evening."

Spike snarled at them disgustedly, and they smirked back, knowing that he couldn't do much more than that.

"Spike…" Drusilla whimpered, and he tore himself away from the watchers to pull his sire into his embrace.

"Are you alright?" he murmured, pulling off her shirt to inspect her injuries. "What did they do to you?"

"Nasty baby slayer, slashed and bashed with a stake of glass!" Dru moaned. "Ohhh…" Spike was massaging the area around the hole gingerly.

He shook his head. "It's plastic, Dru. It can't cut you much. It just hurts like hell." He grimaced at the memory of the last time one of the potentials had staked him. She'd gotten the stomach, not the heart, of course. He was proud to boast that not one slayer had ever gotten a deathblow on him, and no slayer ever would. Not since that bitch in New York had knocked him out before she'd died of the injuries he'd given her.

"I'll tell you a secret," Dru whispered conspiratorially. "Everything's going to change soon."

"Oh?" Spike busied himself with her injuries, listening closely. Dru might have been completely insane, but her visions had the irritating habit of coming true. Irritating, because they were the reason, more often than not, that the watchers would take her away to force information from her.

"Yes," Dru breathed. "And it starts with you, my lovely boy." Her eyes shone. "And the fire."

"Fire?"

Dru turned to stare at him, her eyes suddenly dark. "It will burn my Spike up. And you will put it out. And then you'll be gone, gone, gone!" The last word came out as a long, protracted screech, and Dru was limp in his arms, no longer aware of the world around her.

He pressed a kiss to the top of her head as he tended to her wounds, still troubled.


	4. Chapter 4

"Did _any_ of you do the homework?" Miss Calendar asked, exasperated.

"We don't know Aramaic!" one of the slayers protested. "How are we supposed to translate when we've barely started studying the language?"

_Look it up in your dictionary, like I did,_ Willow thought, but she was silent. There was no need to flaunt the fact that all the watchers had done their work, not when Cordelia Chase was eyeing her suspiciously from the other side of the room like she was the enemy. Please. Everyone knew that Cordy wasn't even a real slayer, she was just at the Watchers Academy for combat education so that her parents could flaunt their slayer-trained daughter to the elite community she belonged to. Cordy was allowed to go home in the summers and winters and call her family, just like the watchers; plus, her daddy flew in once a month to meet with Giles and give him loads of money so Cordy could do what she wanted.

Willow had been at the Watchers Academy since she was eight, snatched from Sunnydale by a scout when she'd shown great potential for magical ability. She hadn't been sorry to go, not when her mother had readily sent her off without even a tear and her father had boycotted her departure, convinced that it was all some kind of twisted joke.

Of course, she'd had to pretend a few months ago, when she'd been preparing to return to the Watchers Academy after a summer vacation and had decided that she wasn't getting on the plane back to England without her two best friends, not after she'd found out why Xander was all bruised and battered all the time. She couldn't consign him to a life of more abuse, not while she was living the high life in England, and the two of them weren't going to leave while Jesse stayed behind. Giles had readily agreed to allow the two boys to train as watchers, and now the trio was happily reunited in school.

She sneaked a peek at Xander's paper, wincing at the barely legible Aramaic letters he'd copied from her homework and passed on to the rest of the watchers. Hopefully, he'd still get credit for it, if only by virtue of the fact that he'd done more than the slayers. She knew that he was already in trouble, falling behind too sharply for the teachers not to have noticed. They'd keep him around because they wanted her, but he wasn't cut out to be a watcher, and everyone knew it, even Xander himself.

As she watched, he passed a note to Jesse and they both snorted with amusement. Willow grinned. At least here, Xander was safe from his drunkard father.

The bell rang, and Miss Calendar shook her head. "Go ahead, get some lunch," she conceded. "But I want you back here later today, and this time, girls-" She wheeled around to glare at the slayers. Kennedy and Cordelia were the only ones to glare back. "Bring, at the very least, your started homework."

"It's not like we're not going to have watchers doing the work for us when we're called," one of the slayers whined from behind Willow as she exited the room with her friends. "We're slayers, the ones who actually _matter_."

"And you'll all die when you meet the first demon you can't identify," Amy Madison shot at them, jogging forward to join Willow, Xander and Jesse. She rolled her eyes. "I can't _wait_ for when that happens."

"You know what works really well with demons?" Kennedy spoke up from the slayers' circle. Willow shuddered. She really didn't like Kennedy, loud and smug and bossy as she was. "Hacking off their heads."

"Typical slayer, thinks she can solve everything by beheading," Jesse smirked. "Did you know that one in every five demons can regenerate its head?" He'd taken to demon studies like a fish to water, reading everything he could get on the most gruesome of creatures. It was no surprise, not from Jesse. He'd always been a horror movie aficionado, and studying demon types was like a game to him.

Of course, even he couldn't translate Aramaic like Willow, and that suited her just fine.

"Your _vavs_ are all wrong," she explained to him as he set down their lunches at the table. Watchers were permitted to pick out their own menu, not like the slayers, each of whom was given a personalized, packaged meal, depending on her nutritional needs. "See that little thingie sticking out of it? That makes it a _nun_."

"So what's this?" Xander asked from her other side, poking at the first word of the sentence.

Willow squinted at it. "_Hay aleph. Huh_."

"Stumped?" Jesse teased.

"Actually, that's what it is," a cheery voice said from behind them. "The _hay_ makes a 'ha' sound, and when combined with the _aleph_, it's softer._Huh_."

Willow twisted in her seat to stare at the girl behind them. "You know Aramaic?" she demanded, eyeing the girl suspiciously. She looked about a few years older than Willow, with curly brown hair and glasses and a goofy grin on her face. Beside her stood a tall girl about Willow's age with honey-blond hair, staring at the ground shyly.

"Sure! I've been studying ancient languages in my free time, since I found out that my parents weren't going to be letting me come here until I turned thirteen. I didn't want to be behind, since that would be so embarrassing and how much could I learn, anyway, if I lacked the inherent skills, know what I mean?" An odd little giggle erupted from her and she gave a little wave. "I'm Fred! This is Tara. We just came in this morning."

"New shipment of watchers?" Xander asked, leaning forward. "Anyone from Sunnydale?" There were always a few from their town with every batch, borne from the necessity of living on a Hellmouth. Last time, of course, they'd gotten Cordelia, so it wasn't quite as good as it sounded in theory.

"Those two boys." Fred nodded to where Tucker Wells was giving a younger boy and his friend noogies. "Are you from Sunnydale, too?"

"Jonathan!" Willow exclaimed, smiling widely at the sight of him. She should've guessed. Slowly but surely, all of the lower hierarchy of nerds in Sunnydale were trickling in to the Academy, a school that flourished on people like them. She jumped up, eager to speak to him. Jonathan hadn't been around last summer, so she hadn't seen him since her winter break, when she'd come by to visit her old elementary school.

Halfway across the room, though, she slammed hard into another girl, sending the other girl's plateful of pasta all over her.

"I am so sorry!" the girl said, trying to clean off her shirt with a little paper napkin that just rubbed the sauce deeper into Willow's uniform. "I didn't see you coming!"

"I'm fine," Willow said, backing away from the girl hastily. "Really."

"Is there something I can do?" the girl asked worriedly as she took another step forward, wide green eyes filled with apology.

"No. Nothing." Willow forced a smile onto her face. "Happens all the time. Well, usually it's on purpose, but I'm used to it." She was. She'd had to buy three new uniforms since Cordelia had arrived at the Academy and been delighted to find the former subject of her bullying there.

"That's awful." The girl shook her head sympathetically, and for a moment, Willow actually believed it. "I'm Buffy, by the way."

"Willow," Willow said, frowning at the mess on the floor. "Aren't you going to clean that up?"

The girl clapped a hand to her mouth. "I forgot! At home, the maid always takes care of it, you know?"

"Sure." Willow forced a smile, watching as Buffy bent to try futilely to scoop the pasta up and onto her tray with the napkin. Just what they needed, a Cordelia clone. Except this one didn't know that Willow was supposed to be her target yet. "So, you're a slayer?" She had to be. Willow could always tell, and not just because there was something about the way that they moved. Slayers were the only ones who weren't nerds or British. They had a "destiny," whatever that meant, and they were _special_. Willow was special, too, with her talent for magic, but not enough that she was spared the glares from the slayers.

"Potential slayer," the girl corrected, making a face. "I just came in today. With Faith." She jerked her head to another girl Willow didn't recognize, a dark-haired girl who was tugging at her uniform uncomfortably as she spoke to Rona. As Willow watched, both slayers turned to stare at Buffy and her. "But it's nice to meet you! Well, maybe not for you, so much." She made a half-hearted dab at Willow's shirt again, spreading even more sauce on it.

Willow joined her on the floor, helping to push the pasta into the tray. Buffy seemed nice. Almost like someone she'd have wanted to be friends with, if the circumstances were changed. But they wouldn't, and the system was the system, and she wasn't going to doom Buffy by trying to fight it.

Besides, judging from the matching scowls on Rona's and Faith's faces, this wasn't going to last long. 

* * *

After that first humiliating encounter with Willow, Buffy tried to seek her out again later in the day, only to be stopped by Cordelia, the unofficial ringleader of the slayers, who told her in no uncertain terms that Willow wasn't one of _them_ and that _they_ stayed away from her as much as possible. She'd thought about defying the other girl, but she reminded her of Kimberly and Buffy missed Kimberly enough to want to be friends with Cordelia. So she smiled briefly at Willow when she saw her and sometimes spoke to her in the bathroom between classes, but didn't further the friendship any more than that.

She'd learned soon enough that she wasn't expected to do well in school. Oh, the teachers made a fuss when the slayers all ruined the curve or didn't do their homework, but no one really cared. The schooling was a necessity, but it wasn't nearly as important for them as the field training was. The classes they had once a day for slayers only and taught by Giles himself were the only important ones, the ones in which they learned about weapons and killing demons and how vampires were evil demons that had no souls and were _never_ to be associated with casually. He repeated that last bit several times a day, and Faith guessed once that he'd had a problem with that before. Buffy didn't know why. She'd seen images of vampires in their demon studies classes, and they were hideous, all bumpy-faced and fangy-mouthed. She couldn't imagine a slayer becoming friends with one, all Beauty and the Beast style.

They had classes five days a week during Buffy's first year at the Academy, beginning at six in the morning on Mondays and Wednesdays and nine o'clock on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays. In the mornings, they learned math and science and grammar, just like Buffy had back in LA, but at a much faster rate than she'd ever gone before. And no one seemed to mind when her grades dropped from A's to B's to C's.

In the afternoons, they studied the mystical with real watchers. On Mondays and Wednesdays, they learned about the history of the slayers and associated prophecies with Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, who was a new Watchers Academy graduate. Everyone said that he worked in the school instead of in the field because he was hoping to be assigned to the next slayer, but Buffy was dubious, since Giles frowned on pompousness and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce (who all the older students still called Wes) had it in spades. Miss Calendar taught them ancient languages and magic on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and demon studies were on Fridays, before they were let out early for the weekends. Aside from Cordelia, who went up to local relatives on most weekends, the slayers spent their free time in town or on extra training, depending on where they were assigned for the weekends.

At first, Buffy had wanted to call home all the time and been heartbroken when Mr. Wyndham-Pryce had forbidden it. But she adjusted eventually as she came to understand that slayers answered to a higher power than family, and had to be above it all. Faith never seemed to want to call home. Kennedy's family encouraged her to be distant. Molly had been raised by a watcher. Cari was satisfied with the fact that her people supported her, and needed nothing more. Buffy wanted desperately to fit in, and so she forced memories of Hank and Joyce from her mind and turned her attention to her new life.

Summers were spent in what Giles called "fieldwork," during which the watchers went home and the slayers had sparse classes, generally just videos of demons and vampires in combat situations, and took more trips to the beach than the village. Most of the time, they'd gather around as Anya, Giles's "friend," (who was _certainly not a demon_, she'd assure them so often that they'd learned not ask anymore) would tell them tales of havoc wreaked during her years as _certainly not a demon_. Everyone liked Anya far too much to express any suspicions, even Kennedy, who didn't like any of the watchers. She treated them like equals and would tell them everything, even about her sexual escapades, and as long as she kept Giles out of it, they were all happily intrigued.

When Buffy turned twelve, she was moved from her magic classes to join the special training class that most of her fellow slayers had already entered. Twice a week, she learned hand-to-hand combat and how to wield a sword, a stake, or a crossbow, and to her surprise, she found that she was very good at it. She'd beaten Faith after only three months in training, even though Faith had been there for six months more than she had. Gunn, who wielded an axe and showed them how to use the enemy's strength against him, had named her Most Promising Potential four separate months during her two years under him, more than any other slayer. After that, some of the others had started talking about her behind her back, and she'd stopped liking Kennedy and Rona and even Faith at first, but then Faith had had enough and ditched the others to hang out with Buffy again.

A new slayer was called a month before Buffy's fifteenth birthday, and Buffy had watched the sixteen-year-old girl leave with envy. She knew now that some of the better slayers could last for years, and Buffy's window of opportunity wasn't very large. She'd spent so long training, and she was _good_ at it, and to lose it all by not being called would crush her.

Then, three days later, the next slayer was called. Narra was blonde and lithe and lethal, just like Buffy herself, and Buffy forgot her jealousy in favor of fear, remembering that her destiny was one that lent itself to an early death. _I don't want to die,_ she'd reminded herself, and fought even harder.

Three months later, she was deemed ready for her final exam to graduate the first stage of her training, and took it alongside twenty-one girls in her year and the one above. She passed the first nine tests, which measured her strength, agility, skill, creativity, and finesse, and along with Faith and eight others, was permitted to go on to the tenth and final test, which, if passed, would allow her to move on to the second stage of training, the one that would matter most if she was ever called.

It was time to fight her first vampire.


	5. Chapter 5

In the ten years since Spike had been shipped to England and thrown into a cell under the watchers' school, he'd gone through some fairly unpleasant experiences. There was dealing with Dru when the watchers went too far, being forced to battle far too many snot-nosed potentials with nothing to offer or pique his interest, and putting up with watchers who wanted nothing more than to torment him for daring to kill two slayers.

Nothing was quite as bad as the sight that met his eyes when Weatherby roused him from slumber that day, nothing quite as dread-inducing as the face of the unconscious vampire, the smug certainty of her pursed lips evident even in her sleep. _Darla. Oh, fuck this, why?_

"Sodding hell!" He took a step back, alarmed at the sight of her being hauled into his cage. "Not in here!"

"I've brought you a playmate!" Weatherby said, grinning maliciously at his look of horror. "Isn't she just lovely?"

"Grandmummy!" Dru wailed from her own cage, but her eyes were glittering with dark excitement, her mood directly inverse to Spike's own. "Daddy! Where is Daddy?"

"Funny you should ask, Drusilla," Smith said, supporting half of the dark vampire over his shoulder. Collins had the other half, and they threw Angelus into Dru's cage together with one heave.

"You couldn't just put Darla with Dru?" Spike grumbled, eyeing his sire's sire as Dru jumped onto him, cooing.

Weatherby smirked, brushing aside his collar to reveal a bite mark on his neck, the one Spike had inflicted on him once, years ago. "But this is so much more fun, Spike. Dru is so…glad… to see her sire again, after all."

Spike twisted his lips to form a sort of grin that made his entire face grotesque as a crazed murderer, and even Weatherby took a step back. _Wanker. He's going to be the first to go, when…_

He waited until the Special Ops watchers had led ten of the training vampires upstairs- _new potentials? Wonder how many will make it to the big leagues_- before speaking again. "What the hell, Angelus?"

Angelus popped up, fully alert, making Dru squeal with delight and wrap her arms and legs around him. "What's that, boy?"

Spike scowled at him. "We waited for you to get us out of here for ten years. Ten years! And you never even bothered to send a postcard?" The fury with his sire was an old one, resentment boiling up from the first few years of abandonment. And where he once might have welcomed his saviors, now there was only the faint suspicion that they were only there because they'd been captured themselves.

"We couldn't get in," Darla explained, stretching languorously. "We turned a watcher and sent him in, but they have vampire detectors at all entrances. So we came in this way."

"It took you ten years to do that?" Spike demanded.

Darla exchanged a leer with Angelus. "We were…distracted."

"For ten years?"

Angelus laughed, cold and knowing. "Honestly, boy, did you think we really cared?"

Spike slumped, the stark truth overtaking his anger. "No, not really." He perked up. "So you were captured? Who did it, and where can I send the gift basket?"

"We weren't captured," Darla corrected him primly. But Spike could see the quiet anger born of humiliation burning in her eyes as she lied, "We allowed ourselves to be taken." She sneered around at the rows and rows of identically bare cages and the electrified collars on the prisoners' necks. "This place is a travesty, and we're going to burn it to the ground."

Spike was unimpressed. "And how are you going to do that locked in the basement?"

Angelus smirked. "Please. A naïve slayer or two, a measure of thrall, a little time? I can destroy this hellhole in less than a year." 

* * *

_Sharply angular features softened into something bright and joyful, light eyes only just conveying deep affection, a face taught to punish but soft when she looked his way-_

"Rupert?"

He looked up to smile absently at the woman framed in the doorway of his office. "Ah, Jenny. What can I do for you?"

She jerked a thumb toward the training room. "We have ten potentials ready for the final exam."

"Of course." He rose unsteadily, slipping the photo he'd been studying into his desk drawer as he moved.

Jenny followed him down the hall, her eyes narrowed at his demeanor. "You're looking distracted."

He nodded, half-gone already in the memory of Anya, telling him enthusiastically about her latest job, cursing away a man's eyesight for nothing more than looking too hard at another woman than his wife. Anya had been particularly excited about this one, and had told him about it with characteristic pride over breakfast that morning. He sighed heavily, discomfort still foremost in his mind at the thought of what the woman he loved was capable of.

_Why couldn't I have fallen for someone like Jenny Calendar?_ he wondered, not for the first time. She was a fellow watcher, beautiful and engaging, and she was certainly interested in him. If he'd never known Anya, he was certain that they would be happily together, perhaps even married.

But no, his life had been changed irrevocably when he and Ethan had left on their first recruiting mission after he'd been named headmaster, or "principal," as the steadily rising American population had begun calling him. Ethan, out of control as always, had slept with some poor innocent woman to try to seduce her into giving up her son to the Academy, and the vengeance demon Anyanka had arrived to unleash her wrath upon him. Giles and Ethan, neither of whom had ever found vengeance demons to be much of a threat, had captured her, intending to bring her back to the Academy as a prisoner. Instead, Giles had fallen irrevocably in love.

He shuddered now to think of Anya in those underground cells, living the empty life that the vampires were forced to endure. Anya wasn't like them, hardened and uncaring. She'd never have been able to exist like that. She never would have to.

But then, there were moments like this that made him question if he'd unleashed a great evil on the world by letting her go.

"Rupert. Rupert!" Jenny waved a hand in front of his face. "You're a million miles away today! What's on your mind?"

He shook his head. "Nothing of any consequence," he said reluctantly, giving her a soft smile.

She flashed him a tight-lipped smile in return. "Thinking of a special lady?" He started, forcing his heart to stop racing. Jenny didn't know. There was no way that she could. Only Ethan, who had adjusted the magical sensors on the building so Anya could come and go undetected, knew about his relationship. Well, the slayers might suspect it in the summers, when the lack of watchers in the school made him reckless and open, but they had never spoken about it to the other watchers. There was an unspoken code of silence when it came to the summers with his students.

"Hardly," he managed, quickening his step in the hopes of getting to the training auditorium before Jenny could trap him in a conversation about his love life.

She raised an eyebrow. "You just keep telling yourself that, Rupert." She winked at him, and he gaped back. Then she murmured in his ear, "I'll be waiting," and sashayed off, leaving him staring after her.

"Oh, dear lord," he mumbled, rubbing his head, frowning at the implications of _that_ conversation. "Anya is not going to be pleased." 

* * *

Buffy stared open-mouthed as the ten vampires filed into the training room obediently, their eyes flickering from slayer to slayer with unadulterated hatred. She hadn't expected them to look so… _so normal_ .

She'd seen photographs before, images in her textbooks of vampires in game face- their demon-like features and yellowish eyes, the fangs that protruded when they growled, and sometimes even hairless bodies with hollow holes in the front of the face that served as mouths. They were supposed to be hideous. The one vague memory that she had of one was that woman at her friend's house, and she'd been hideous. She'd never really thought about how a vampire would look when it was pursuing its prey with a human face.

Gunn nodded to the men escorting the vampires in. "Lock them in the waiting area. Potentials!" he ordered, and they all scowled at that. Buffy had learned early on that slayers hated to be called potentials, to be reminded that they weren't necessarily going to be able to fulfill their destinies. Gunn and Giles were the only teachers who could get away with calling them potentials, but they didn't have to like it. "On the game floor, now!"

"That last one's kinda cute," Faith whispered to Buffy as they followed the others into the center of the room, where a squarish area about twenty feet long was marked off as the "game floor."

One of the older slayers snorted at that. "Webs?" She turned to face them. "Sure, he looks cute at first, but he's probably the most dangerous of all of the ones here." She frowned. "Except maybe the female next to him. I've never seen her before."

"You've watched them fight?" Buffy asked dubiously, eyeing the female that the other girl had pointed out. She didn't look very tough. In fact, she seemed kind of… lame. Was she actually coming on to the vampire next to her on the game floor?

The slayer shrugged. "Yeah. Once you take this test the first time, you're sometimes allowed to watch the older slayers spar with them." She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "I once saw Kakistos tear into a girl's shoulder. She was in the hospital for a week. And one time, Spike resisted the collar for long enough to mark a slayer!" Her face darkened. "It was Beatriz Muniz, actually. The girl who was called before Narra?"

Beatriz had been the one to last only three days before being killed in a mystical ritual that no one had identified yet. Mr. Rayne had put together a team of the most talented magic users in the school to research it, but they had had little luck. Buffy shuddered, remembering the terror she'd felt after that, and looked to the vampires opposite them with renewed determination.

Faith was still talking to the older slayer. "How do you know all the vampire's names? I thought we weren't supposed to socialize with them?"

The other girl shrugged. "You have to know their names when you're paired with them. I think they used to use 'Vampire One, Two,' et cetera for a while, but that was years ago, before I got here. Then they started on the whole 'know your enemy' kick, and now they encourage us to talk to them a little fights. Supervised, of course."

"Why do you think they changed that?" Buffy asked curiously.

The girl shrugged. "They got sick of all the confusion? I don't know, I've only been watching the fights for a few months. Ask Cordy." Cordy knew everything about everyone.

Faith made a face. "Yeah, right." Buffy stifled a smirk. Faith and Cordy _really_ didn't get along, and it was only a mark of Faith's own popularity that she wasn't a social pariah. Okay, maybe she was, a little. But it wasn't that bad.

It wasn't like she was a _watcher_ or anything.

Ahead of them, Gunn was speaking in a low voice to Giles, Miss Calendar, and Miss Chalmers, who had all entered the room while they'd been talking. All four watchers were required to be present during the final exam and score them, Giles as principal, Gunn as combat expert, Miss Chalmers as vampire expert, and Miss Calendar, who, as house mother, was supposed to monitor their reactions and decide if they were psychologically fit to continue to the next stage of their training. Now, Miss Calendar was gesturing at the vampire the other slayer had called Webs, shaking her head vehemently. Giles was talking in low, measured tones, and nodding at…her?

_Not me, not me, not me. Not first._ But Gunn had already turned and was heading toward them, his expression grim. "Okay, Faith." Buffy let out a breath, shrugging when Faith nudged her inquiringly. "You're first." She reached for Faith's hand to squeeze it for good luck, but Faith had already moved away, her chin set confidently as she strode forward.

There was a "Come on, Buffy!" from somewhere near the rafters, and Buffy turned to face Eve, the only other girl from their year who'd made it this far. She gestured to Buffy from where the other slayers were already taking their seats, and Buffy followed them halfheartedly, taking a seat beside Eve and leaning forward to see what happened next.

Gunn led the girl-vampire that the older slayer had pointed out as new earlier over to the game floor. "Wait here," he instructed, and turned to Faith. "This is for you," he told her, handing her a stake.

Faith frowned. "It's plastic."

Gunn nodded. "Feel free to stake her with it. You can also go for beheading, but we'd rather not."

"What? That is so unfair!" the vampire said hotly in a whiny tone. "I don't want to be staked! I don't even want to be here!"

Gunn rolled his eyes. "You'll be allowed to attack once the barrier goes up, Harmony," he informed the vampire. "If you can beat her, then she won't stake you, alright?"

The vampire- _Harmony_, Buffy thought, marveling at the _normal_ way she tossed her hair back like one of Cordy's hangers-on- nodded reluctantly. "Can I kill her?"

Buffy started at Harmony's casual tone. _Evil, soulless demons_, she reminded herself. _Cold-blooded who talk about killing like we talk about the weather._

But Faith just smirked. "You can try."

As Gunn retreated, Miss Calendar moved forward, chanting a spell in a low, musical voice. Slowly, the air around the game floor rippled and crystallized into a vaguely translucent purplish barrier that blocked Faith and Harmony from leaving.

"Go!" Gunn ordered, circling the game floor as they watched. Immediately, Harmony's face changed, and Buffy gasped at how distorted it had become. _That_ was the vampire she'd expected, hideous and twisted and evil. _That_ was something she could fight.  
_  
…And kill? Could you kill the girl behind the mask?  
_  
She pushed the intrusive thoughts from her mind and focused on Faith again, watching as she fended off the vampire's attacks easily, laughing with glee.

"She's not bad," the older slayer from before noted, raising an eyebrow.

"She's the best," Buffy corrected her. _Except for me, of course._ She grinned at the thought and turned back to Faith's fight, frowning as Harmony threw her across the floor with vampire strength. Faith hit headfirst and fell to the ground. She didn't get back up.

"Faith!" Buffy cried out, worried, as Harmony moved toward her triumphantly. She bent down, her fangs bared, and Buffy jumped up. "Why aren't they stopping this?" she demanded, gesturing wildly at the teachers.

"Down, girl." The older slayer rolled her eyes. "She's going to be fine. Gunn'll shock the vamp if she touches Faith's neck."

But Gunn was smirking, unconcerned, as he watched Harmony draw closer. The vampire lifted a limp Faith with one hand, lowered her mouth to Faith's neck…

"Win!" Gunn announced, and Harmony shrieked in pain and fell backwards, Faith's plastic stake protruding from her heart. "Straight through the heart from the fine Faith! Nice work!" The barrier was down, and Faith emerged, beaming.

"Beat that," she murmured under her breath as she took a seat next to Buffy.

Buffy narrowed her eyes, the challenge accepted. "Don't mind if I do."

The next few battles didn't go as well. The older slayer fought a vampire and had a considerably harder time of it, getting thrown against the barrier and viciously attacked before Gunn shocked away the vampire.

Eve's fight didn't go much better. On her first approach, the vampire caught her and yanked her to him, smashing their heads together so hard that there was a sickening crack and Eve dropped to the ground, unconscious. Another slayer tried copying Faith, but the other vampires were wary now and didn't approach the challenger. Only two of the other eight girls passed in the end, and Buffy was getting restless.

"Ready?" Faith murmured when the ninth slayer had fallen, her vampire successfully knocking her out before the barrier had been broken. Buffy shrugged with quiet apprehension, her eyes zeroing in on the final vampire. His eyes were already fixed on her, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. She shuddered, the beginnings of a genuine fear fluttering in her stomach.

"Buffy!" Gunn called, and then there was no more time for uncertainty.


	6. Chapter 6

"Tara!" Willow's face lit up when she saw the quiet girl seated in the front of the room. "I didn't know that you were in this class!"

The other girl looked up, tossing her a shy smile. "I-I was transferred yesterday, Mr. Rayne's special request."

"That's great!" Willow settled down next to her. "Hey, yesterday he kicked Michael out of the research group. Maybe you're our new partner!" she suggested brightly.

"I think so," Tara pulled out a new notebook, ducking her head down as she jotted down the date. Mr. Rayne's magic class was always the first one to be filled by training watchers, but Tara had never been one of those watchers who'd camped outside of Giles's office overnight in the hopes of getting first dibs at a class. She'd been in Miss Calendar's class for a long time, and had never regretted her choice.

To be completely honest, Mr. Rayne scared her a bit. There was something off about the way he conducted his class, the way he stared at all the students like they were objects to be purchased, the magic he used… She shuddered at the thought of it. She'd been raised on white magic, and she _knew_ it. She didn't know Mr. Rayne's magic, dark and twisted and alien.

But yesterday, Mr. Rayne had called her into his office and informed her that she'd be switching to his class starting the next day, and it had never occurred to her to object to it. She wasn't one to turn down a teacher, and she wasn't completely disappointed, anyway.

After all, Willow was in Mr. Rayne's class. And Tara tried to spend as much time as possible with Willow.

The door opened again, and Jesse, Oz and Xander walked in together. "All I'm saying is that I'd do her," Xander was protesting. "Doesn't mean I like her."

Jesse rolled his eyes. "That's disgusting, Xan. It's _Cordelia Chase_, remember? We hate her. That includes not wanting to do her."

Xander snorted. "Hey, I'm fifteen. I'd do Willow right now. And she's practically my sister."

Willow threw her pencil at him, then scampered after it so it didn't roll out of the room. Tara smiled at her compulsiveness, her grin fading only when Oz picked up the pencil for Willow and greeted her with a soft kiss on the lips.

"So what's new?" Willow asked, sliding into her boyfriend's embrace easily. "Aside from Xander's great unrequited love for Cordelia, that is."

"It's sick," Jesse said sulkily, stalking toward the back of the room to slouch into his seat.

Xander followed him there. "I'd do Caridad, too! Or Rona! Or Buffy! Man, would I do Buffy!"

"Wouldn't we all," Tucker smirked from his seat across the room. "Bet you'd do Faith, too."

Xander wrinkled his nose. "Oh, she's definitely doable. But scary. She'd probably chain me up and try to strangle me as some kind of sick sex game."

"See what I have to deal with?" Willow complained to Tara. "Every day. All day. Stupid male-dominated class."

Tara nodded, a little nervously. "At least you have Amy," she offered, nodding toward the other witch from where she sat with Tucker and Warren.

"I'd do Faith," Amy called out. "And Kennedy. I'd totally do Kennedy."

Willow made a face. "She doesn't count."

"I'd do Amy," Warren volunteered, smirking at her. Tara busied herself with her notebook, her cheeks hot. Half the watchers had returned from last winter break obsessed with sex, and even she, quiet as she was, had actually been asked out twice, once by Jonathan, and once by Kennedy. Neither one was quite her type, and she'd turned both down.

She was beginning to suspect that she didn't have a type anymore. Just a person. One person. Who was eminently unavailable.

Willow laid her head on Oz's shoulder, eyes widening charmingly. "You don't talk about me like that, do you?"

Oz raised an eyebrow. Willow beamed and kissed him again. Tara looked away.

"Okay, enough already!" Mr. Rayne strode into the room, his eyes flickering over their faces in silent scrutiny. "We've got a lot of work to do today, and I want to get rid of you as soon as possible, so let's do this thing." He tossed a sheet of paper to Willow. She frowned at it. "Go. Do things."

"But this is just a locater spell!" Willow protested. "I've been doing these since I was ten!"

"Ah ah ah, my dear Willow," Mr. Rayne purred, and Tara felt the hairs on the back of her neck prickle at his tone. "You've been doing locater spells for the living. _This_ is a death spell. You never know when you might need to find a corpse."

"Oh!" Willow's eyes shone as she studied it, and a few of the others gathered around to look it over.

Mr. Rayne tilted his chair and rested his feet on his desk, pulling a small book from his pocket to read while they worked.

Willow copied the paper with a simple spell and passed the copies around. "I've got to work with Xander," she told Tara apologetically as she handed her the spell. "Why don't you work with Oz?"

Oz was probably the easiest to work with, so Tara dipped her head and turned to him, studying the spell intently in an attempt to forget the way Willow's fingers had brushed against hers.

It didn't work, not until she was distracted by the darkness of the spell before her. And then she had new things to worry about. 

* * *

"Hey! You're a new one!" Webs noted gleefully as he prowled along the edge of the barrier. "They don't usually give me the new ones. You must be pretty good!"

"The best," Buffy informed him, gulping back her fear. Gunn always told them that vampires could sense their fear, and use it to wear them down until even the thought of fighting was miles away. But now that she was closed in a barrier with a vampire, awaiting his first strike…

It was hard to remember lessons learned in an environment like this.

The instant the barrier had gone up, she'd expected him to attack like the other vampires had done, features melting away and yellow eyes wild with hunger. But instead, he'd waited patiently, tracking her every move with sharp eyes that knew far too much.

Gunn followed Webs just outside the barrier. "Never forget, Buffy," he warned her. "He's the enemy. He has a name and a face, he could be your big brother on the outside! But he's a soulless, evil demon."

Webs smirked. "They're still doing this, aren't they?" He took a step forward, and Buffy drew her stake up instinctively. "Why do you think they're so determined to make sure that you can kill a vampire with a familiar face?" he wondered laughingly, and Buffy saw Gunn tense behind the barrier.

Buffy inched forward, her toes trailing a cautious path across the floor. "Tell me more while I stick this stake through your heart," she offered, lifting her eyebrows in a challenging glare.

Webs smirked. "Aw, such a cute little thing. My sire is going to love you. He _adores_ putting down the feisty ones." He took another step forward, and Buffy, not about to be outdone by the vampire, followed his lead.

"He'll sound human," Gunn said quietly. "He'll act like your friend until the moment he gets what he wants and sinks his fangs into your neck. In the real world, the vampires won't have leashes holding them back. They won't be so easy to find and destroy."

"Because this is easy." Buffy turned on her heel abruptly, moving closer to Webs at an angle.

"This is your first try, huh." Webs observed, unfazed. He shifted from foot to foot, taking on a bored air. "You…aren't you the rising star?" He smiled, his handsome face growing even more attractive with the expression. "I'll bet this is huge for you. You'll break into the big leagues, make some noise, shine through school until you finally turn twenty and they realize that all your training has been for naught."

His eyes were still wary, still on edge and tracking her movements, and she forced herself to relax. "It wouldn't be for nothing," Buffy said defiantly, slowing her breaths in an attempt to feign calm. She saw the moment he relaxed, caught the way his eyes lowered in preparation for conversation rather than fight. "I can still kill vampires, even without a sacred calling. I can still kill you!" She darted forward, stabbing blindly with the plastic stake as she moved.

Webs grabbed her arm and twisted, and she yelped with pain. He was _strong_! She'd known intellectually that vampires were gifted with superhuman strength, but even so, she'd been automatically judging him based on his size. Clearly, it was a big mistake. One that might've cost her her life in the field, and she was beginning to understand with frightening clarity just how far she was from ready to battle vampires for real.

"I could crush your arm with my fingers," Webs said pleasantly, and Buffy dropped the stake she'd been clutching.

"Never let your guard down," Gunn cautioned from the background. Giles and Miss Chalmers both moved to stand behind him, Miss Chalmers's eyes wide and Giles's face expressionless. "Never."

She could feel the calluses on the fingers wrapped tightly around her forearm, smell the dampness of his clothing, and her only reminder that she was fighting something superhuman was the lack of his breath in her ears. He was close, she was scared, and he knew it, judging from the smirk on his face-

-And quick anger flared up at his smugness, swiftly overtaking her fear. This wasn't the field. And she might have made a mistake, but that didn't mean that she was doomed for failure.

Swiftly, she kneed Webs in the groin, grinning with dark satisfaction when he flinched backward and let her arm go. With her good hand, she ran to the barrier and pushed off it to do a flip that landed both her feet squarely on the back of Webs's head.

"Ow!" he complained. "You know the problem with all you slayers? You're too obsessed with pain."

"Causing it?" Buffy asked brightly, landing in a crouch by her fallen stake and grabbing it as she rose again.

"Among other things," Webs agreed, moving swiftly toward her with a flurry of punches.

Buffy matched his attacks with her own weaker ones, but soon even her knuckles were aching from each time they hit his hard fists. Webs's eyes glinted with malice. "But the real problem with you? You slayers can never finish the job. When it's someone who matters-" He shot a kick at her stomach that hit her easily and sent her flying, doubled over breathlessly as she hit the ground. "-You can hurt and hurt and hurt, but when it comes to the kill-" He knocked her down before she could finish getting back up, then grabbed her by the throat and lifted her into the air. "-You can't go through with it."

He moved forward until he was so close that his lips brushed against her ear as he spoke. "I bet you couldn't even kill me," he murmured, and she began struggling against him with renewed effort.

"It's murder, you know, what you slayers do," he continued conversationally, smashing her head against the wall of the barrier as she squirmed to try and get free. "You hide it behind titles and mystical rites, but you're just as bad as vampires are. You kill us, whether or not we mean you harm. What kind of justice is that?"

"You don't have a soul," Buffy protested. "You kill people!"

"And you kill us," Webs concluded, frowning.

She knew that his argument was wrong, knew intellectually that he was just twisting words to make her sound like the villain, but she couldn't stop the words from resonating somewhere deep inside of her. Not when it all seemed to make such perfect sense, when the only way out of this battle was with her stake in his chest.

"There's a woman locked in the basement," Webs told her. "A mentally unstable vampire. And instead of helping her, your watchers just send her out to fight, again and again, letting senior students attack her and stake her the way you planned to do me. You wouldn't even treat an animal like that."

She started struggling anew. "Animals aren't trying to eat us!"

"Some are." Webs brushed her hair aside almost gently, bending to her neck. "You help them, let them loose in their natural environment. But not vampires."

Buffy faltered, feeling Webs slide her hands behind her back and hold them in his iron grip, his mouth inches away from her neck. If his teeth touched her neck, he'd be electrocuted and she'd fail the exam. And yet, she couldn't find the energy to fight back, to resist the vampire. _Is this thrall?_ she wondered, closing her eyes and admitting defeat. _Have I lost?_

She heard the crunching sound of his game face settling into place and she winced. He'd beaten her without even coming close to full power. All he'd needed was words.

"Come on, dammit!" The cry came from the bleachers, and Buffy's eyes shot open to see Faith standing, her fists clenched and her eyes narrowed. "You're not gonna let me move ahead of you, are you?" she demanded.

Buffy's forehead creased with the thought, and it was all she needed to snap out of Webs's thrall. With all her might, she headbutted him square in the nose, watching with glee as he fell backward with a shout.

_Ooh, shiny,_ she thought, blinking away stars, and leaped onto him, landing with a _whoomph!_ on his stomach and stabbing the stake into his chest before she could think about it.

And then she did, and her hand dropped limply onto his chest as her heart wrenched at the realization of what she'd just done.

_Murder, what slayers do._

Murder.

He gaped at her, choking back a whimper of pain. "You beat me."

"Yep." She stared blankly at the dark stain spreading out under his shirt. If it had been a real stake, he'd be dust. Dead. Gone.

"You pass!" Gunn was saying, and Faith was talking about partying and the other teachers and slayers were congratulating her, but all she could do was stare at the blood, and the vampire fading away on the floor behind them.


	7. Chapter 7

Early update for lyin' this week! :) Sadly, it seems like this story isn't going to be popular at all outside of my loyal readers at LJ. :( But no worries, I plan on plugging on until the end!

Oh, and reference charts for those of you who want 'em are now available here: http://coalitiongirl(dot)livejournal(dot)com/73315(dot)html

Don't forget to check out the Wesley oneshot, "Tangerine," archived at this site!

* * *

"What the hell happened to you?" Spike demanded, scowling at the vampire who'd just been dumped unceremonious into the cage beside his.

"New potential," Webs told him, leaving a bloody trail down the wall as he slid to the floor of his cage. The little brat he'd been paired with glanced over at him with little interest before retreating back into his shell. But the child never said much, not after Spike had lost patience once and tried to strangle him through the bars. _Idiot watchers, trying to put all the Aurelians in the same area…_

Spike frowned. "Not the one that beheaded Borba!" That had been almost a year before, the last time that a potential had killed a vampire. It was frowned upon, yet from what Spike knew, she hadn't been penalized at all. But he'd taken care of Haru, made her regret what she'd done to the other vampire when they'd finally fought. It didn't matter that he hadn't even known the victim. If slayers got it into their heads that it was easier to kill their opponents, Dru might be next. Or even Webs. And as much as he hated to admit it, Webs and Drusilla's most recent get were _theirs_, and he'd protect them just for that.

He hadn't planned on turning Webs, hadn't planned on turning anyone ever after the debacle with his mother. Webs was supposed to just be a minion originally, one turned to take care of Drusilla. Who better than a specialist in mental health? But he'd wanted the best for his lover, and in the critical moment, he'd sired the boy instead so he'd be able to care for Dru on his own. And he'd stayed with her for the months after Spike had been captured, until they'd both been taken in on some hare-brained scheme of Dru's to save him. The boy was snarky and irreverent, and Spike was fairly sure that in another life, he'd have molded him into the perfect vampire. Instead, he tended to get on Spike's nerves even as Spike instinctively protected him.

He glowered at the little boy beside Webs. _Him_, he could do without. He'd told Dru not to follow him that night, but she'd slipped away from Webs and done so anyway, and now they had to deal with the irritating child in the next cage. He winced. At least _he_ hadn't been forced to stay in the same cage as the child-vamp…

"Not that one," Webs told him, inching closer to his corner of the cage closest to Spike. "A new one. A baby!" He groaned. "So humiliating."

"Yeah," Spike agreed, sticking an arm out through the bars into Webs's cage. "Go ahead, drink. You're no good if you bleed to death."

"I wish I were dead," Webs sighed, obediently sinking his fangs into Spike's wrist and taking a long, slow pull of blood.

"Don't we all," Spike agreed glumly, absentmindedly fiddling with his collar. If anything made of wood came within three feet of it, an automatic alarm would go off and the special ops team would be there within moments. He wasn't sure how they stopped decapitation, but he'd seen them come running once when the French master vampire eight cages down had tried it.

Darla was watching them with fascination. "Wait, so this one's yours?" she asked delightedly. "William, you picked a good one! I'm strangely impressed."

Spike rolled his eyes. "Yeah, because your opinion means so much to me." He'd only been in the cage with Darla for a few hours, and he was already contemplating her murder. He'd had to witness the warped act that was Angelus and Darla pleasuring each other through the bars, and along with Angelus fucking Dru to the ground, that was on the list of things he'd never wanted to see before and never wanted to see again.

"Careful, William," Darla said coyly, slinking up next to him. "A little more of this new Spike and I might just get…excited." She punctuated her words with a squeeze over the crotch of his pants, where he'd been made hard by Webs's feeding.

Drusilla giggled. Angelus watched him with a sneer of disgust and anger. Webs watched Darla, not without a measure of lust. Little Robin Wood stared at them impassively.

Spike shoved Darla away.

--

Buffy's cheeks were flushed, and not only from exhilaration at her victory. Faith had sneaked into Giles's office and stolen a bottle of alcohol from his personal stash so that they could celebrate in style, and she was already beginning to feel a little tipsy after only a few sips. "What do you think is next?" she asked in a voice slightly too high-pitched to be her own. "Master vampires? Demons?"

Faith shrugged, swigging some more whisky from the bottle before offering it to Buffy. She'd finished nearly half of it on her own, but she wasn't even close to being as far gone as Buffy. "Probably. We're real slayers now!"

They were sitting cross-legged on Buffy's bed, the door firmly closed and bolted shut. When they'd returned to the dorm, they'd expected the other slayers to congratulate them, but most stayed coldly silent. "They're just jealous," Faith had decided, but it still stung that they had to celebrate their victory alone.

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. "Buffy?" It was Willow's voice, and Buffy smiled at the thought of the other girl braving the glares of the other slayers on their floor to come visit her room. She was pretty decent…for a watcher, anyway.

She unlocked the door, grinning. "Hey, Willow. How are things?"

Willow had brought along her boyfriend Oz, who Buffy didn't really know but she thought he was a good guy, and Xander and Jesse, who Buffy didn't like much at all. Well, she didn't like most of the guys. They spent far too much time leering at the slayers and not enough time actually speaking to them like they were equals. Damn watchers, thought they were better than the slayers because they were all so booksmart…

"We came to congratulate you!" Willow said cheerfully, coming in to sit on Faith's bed opposite them. Oz leaned against the bedpost, Jesse stood by the laundry basket, leering down at the assortment of underwear in it, and Xander watched uncomfortably from the doorway. "You guys are as close to the real thing as it gets, huh?"

"Whatever," Faith said shortly. Buffy knew that Faith didn't like Willow. "Drink?" She shoved the bottle toward Willow, who jumped back with an "eep!" when she saw what it was.

"We're not allowed to drink!" she said with a squeak. "Where'd you get that?"

"Come on, Willow, time to quit playing with the kiddies and go for the big leagues," Faith taunted, taking another swig from the bottle.

"Stop it," Xander said suddenly from the doorway. He looked a little gray. "You're fifteen. You shouldn't be drinking."

"No one should be drinking," Willow added, exchanging a glance with Xander. "Ever."

But then Faith was looking at Jesse with a challenging glint in her eye, and he'd grabbed the bottle from her before Willow could stop him and taken a long drink.

He spat the liquor out instantly, coughing.

"It's an acquired taste," Faith said, smirking.

The watchers glared at her. Xander took a step forward, his eyes angry and threatening.

Buffy jumped up. "So!" she said, frantically trying to keep the peace. "How's the watcher stuff going?"

"Same old, same old," Willow offered, shrugging. "Oh! But Tara's in our class now, which is nice. And she's working with our research group instead of Michael!" Her face fell a little. "I did like Michael, though. And now Ethan's been ignoring him in class."

"He ignores all of us," Jesse reminded her, plopping down on the bed next to her. "Except you and Amy. And he doesn't even teach anymore, just makes us do busywork all day."

"It's not busywork!" Willow protested. "We've been learning serious magic these past few weeks. If you'd pay attention, you'd know," she said pointedly.

Xander raised his hand mock-seriously. "I pay attention, and I still don't know," he informed them. Buffy giggled. She was pretty sure that it wasn't supposed to be funny, but hey- she was drunk, right?

Xander took her laugh as a welcome, and took a seat next to her on her bed. "You okay there, Buffy?" he asked, regarding her with a look of seriousness that made her laugh harder. Faith started laughing, too, snorting with amusement as she watched Buffy. _Maybe she's not as sober as I assumed,_ Buffy thought.

Xander pried the bottle from her fingers. "Get rid of this," he said in disgust, handing it to Oz. Jesse snatched it before Oz could take it and tried drinking again.

"Jesse!" Willow said sharply, glancing over toward the laughing slayers with worry.

"Ease up, Will," Jesse drawled, sipping at it slowly as he adjusted to the taste. "It's just a drink. I can handle it."

"I'm not doing this," Willow said with distaste, getting up to go. "Let's get out of here."

"Good job, guys," Oz said briefly in the direction of the slayers before following Willow out.

"Damn," Xander swore, glaring at Jesse. "Let's go."

"You can stay," Buffy offered through her giggles. "Come on, try some!"

"I don't think so," Xander shook his head. "Jesse. Come on."

"And leave the company of these two slightly inebriated young ladies?" Jesse arched an eyebrow. "How could I pass up this opportunity?" He drank deeply, moving to sit between Buffy and Faith.

Buffy wriggled away from him. "Nuh-uh," she informed him. "I'm not gonna…gonna…" She frowned. "What was I talking about?"

--

Xander sighed. He had no idea how it had come to this, but somehow, he'd been forced to sit and watch as his best friend shamelessly took advantage of two potentials who were clearly not in their right mind. Great. He'd be lucky if Faith just eviscerated Jesse by morning.

Right then, Jesse was trying to persuade her to kiss him while Buffy curled under his arm, her eyes drifting closed and snapping open every few minutes. "Just like this," Jesse explained. "You open your lips and then I push them against, and then my hand goes up your shirt-"

"I know how to kiss!" Faith said indignantly. "Buffy and I…Buffy and I…do stuff."

Xander's eyes glazed over as he processed her words, images of the two girls together drifting through his mind until he was suddenly very uncomfortable on the floor where he was sitting.

Buffy opened her eyes sleepily. "No, we don't. You just keep trying."

There went that fantasy, to be replaced by a new one, and… "Hey." Xander pulled Faith away from where she'd finally conceded to kiss Jesse and was sort of slobbering on his chin.

She pushed at him weakly, and he set her down awkwardly, yanking her back to him when she headed right back for Jesse. She raised her face to try to kiss him instead, and he hastily turned away. Sure, Faith was hot, but she was going to kill him if she remembered this in the morning. "You're useless," she complained, and he bit back a response, shaking off the way that her comment stung.

"You stole the girl!" Jesse said hotly, reaching for Faith again. "You always steal the girl!"

"Always?" Xander asked, confused. Not that either one of them had had a girlfriend. Not that any girl would ever go out with two dweebs like them.

Jesse nodded vigorously. "First Cor…Cor…" His face screwed up, and then he was throwing up all over Faith and Buffy's messy floor, missing Buffy's long hair by millimeters.

"Oh, crap." Xander gingerly removed Faith from his lap and moved to hustle Jesse to the bathroom.

Faith frowned down at the mess. "Ew," she said, then shrugged and climbed onto Buffy's bed to sleep next to her.

--

Faith was feeling her up. Again. Buffy batted away the sleeping girl's fingers and rolled over. "What happened last night?" she wondered.

Faith stirred lazily, reaching for Buffy's breast again. _Huh. Not so asleep after all._ "We got wasted and got freaky?" she suggested, just because she knew that it would scare Buffy.

Buffy rolled away hastily, gathering the covers against her. "No, we didn't." She bit her lip. "Did we?"

Faith patted her on the head with a sleepy smirk. "Wouldn't you like to know," she teased, getting up to go to the bathroom.

"It smells like puke," Buffy observed, squinting around the room through tired eyes. "And who cleaned our room?" She struggled to remember. "Was Willow here?"

Faith shrugged. "Not for long, I don't think."

They had the day off before their training began again in earnest, so they took their time getting ready and sauntered to the dining hall to eat breakfast with the last few watchers. From across the room, Buffy thought she saw Jesse and Xander staring at them oddly, and she struggled vainly to recall what had happened with them.

Finally, Jesse approached their table with a cocky smirk on his face. "So, Faith. Wanna go out this weekend?"

Faith nearly choked.


	8. Chapter 8

"This will be of special interest to some of you, as I understand we've just captured two more of the direct line," Miss Chalmers announced, and Faith popped her bubblegum loudly in response. Miss Chalmers gave her a dirty look. "Miss Lehane, kindly dispose of your gum."

"Yeah, sure." She popped it again for good measure before she stood, stretching widely first and grinning as the male watchers all leaned forward to watch as her too-short top rose with her arms. Faith believed in using her sexuality as a tool, and it had never failed her. She'd never actually had sex, contrary to what all her classmates whispered. She'd never even gone on a date. But she'd been branded a slut because of her clothes and attitude, and she didn't mind keeping it that way. Better that everyone was terrified of her than that they harassed her like they did her innocent hottie of a roommate.

She winked at said roommate, who looked exasperated and amused at the same time. It was a good thing that she'd been paired with Buffy. She was pretty sure that none of the other girls would have been able to deal with her.

She sauntered between Cordelia's and Jesse's desks, smirking at the way Jesse's eyes were glued on her breasts and ignoring Cordelia's muttered "ho." Pissing Cordy off was her favorite pastime. And okay, maybe she had only put the gum in her mouth in the first place so that she could pull this off. So sue her.

"Faith!" Miss Chalmers tapped her fingers against a crossed arm. "We don't have all day."

"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, watching as Miss Chalmers's eyes narrowed at her disrespectfulness. She deposited the gum in the garbage and leisurely strolled back to her desk, settling down next to Buffy and snatching a pen off her friend's desk to doodle on the sides of her textbook.

"Turn to page eighty-four," Miss Chalmers instructed, and Faith flipped to it, wrinkling her nose at the image on the page. It looked more like a goblin than a typical vampire, its mouth sunken in and its head bald and an unhealthy color. "This is the Master, patriarch to the Aurelius line. We have information that he is trapped near the Sunnydale Hellmouth, unable to emerge for decades, perhaps centuries. Therefore, he is not a true threat right now. We'll be covering the early Aurelius line over the next several weeks, although they will figure prominently in discussions of the Kagenoff and Machiallo lines as well."

Faith turned the page curiously, glancing at the pencil drawing of four more vampires. The caption read _The Scourge of Europe: Darla, Angelus, Drusilla, and William the Bloody._

"-Known for various atrocities, including the destruction of three Italian villages in the early seventeen hundreds while travelling with the Master," Miss Chalmers was droning on. Buffy's eyes were glazed over already. Debbie and Pete were nauseatingly blowing each other kisses across the room. Nancy Doyle was taking notes frantically. Scott Hope was fast asleep. Annabelle was listening to her iPod, the earphones hidden under her hair. Willow Rosenberg was color-coding as she wrote, and Tara Maclay was making mooneyes at Willow when she thought that no one was watching. Oz was watching. Chloe and Eve were passing notes. Cordelia and Jesse were bickering.

"Are you paying attention?" Miss Chalmers demanded angrily. "This vampire is currently below the school, and many of you may face her!" She rounded on Buffy. "Miss Summers, I believe that you, Faith, and Eve will all be permitted to observe a battle between Angelus and one of the senior slayers this afternoon. How can you grasp the magnitude of that battle if you're asleep while we study him?" Buffy jumped, blushing.

"We had a late night," Faith defended her friend, adding a leer and a deliciously dirty look aimed at Buffy. Buffy gave her a look. Xander Harris choked on the sandwich he'd been eating. "We're not gonna be able to stay awake through some boring lecture about this Angelus guy, and does it really matter? We just need to fight him, not know his life story."

Miss Chalmers redirected her glare to Faith. "Have you learned nothing over the past five years? You _must_ know everything about a master vampire if you're going to defeat him!" She turned on her heel and moved to the board, writing on it with long, angry strokes before she turned back to the class. "Angelus and William the Bloody!" she announced. "Which one is more dangerous?"

Nancy's hand shot up, Willow's following a moment later. "Miss Doyle?"

"Angelus," Nancy said with certainty.

Miss Chalmers turned to Willow. "And which is the better fighter?"

Willow frowned. "Angelus. I mean, if he's-"

"Incorrect!" Miss Chalmers said triumphantly. "You see? Angelus is fond of mind games and subterfuge. He's more likely to capture your watcher and hold him hostage to bait you than to attack you in a battle situation. William the Bloody prefers a fair fight, and he's certainly the better fighter of the two. It's vital to recognize that the most dangerous vampires have unique modi operandi if you're going to fight them."

"But if they're in our custody, then that doesn't really matter, right?" Tucker pointed out, getting some dirty looks from his fellow watchers for backing the slayers' side of the argument. "Angelus can't exactly kidnap a watcher if he's locked up in the basement."

Miss Chalmers shook her head. "Nothing is certain. Angelus could somehow break free. He could attack one of the special operations watchers who tend to him, or manipulate a slayer to act recklessly, or…" She paused. "There have even been reports of vampires sending in minions to impersonate them and throw the watchers off their trails. Nothing is certain in our business, class. It's imperative that you accept that."

"Which one is William the Bloody and which one is Angelus?" Buffy wondered under her breath, frowning at the pencil drawing.

Faith squinted at them. "I don't know. I guess we'll find out later." She glanced back at Buffy. The other slayer was tracing the blurry image of the smaller male vampire with a finger, gazing down at him with a slight frown on her face. "B?"

She started, turning to Faith in confusion. "What?"

"You okay?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Just…"

Then Miss Chalmers was reproving them again, this time for talking in class, and Faith reluctantly turned back to her book.

And when she looked back at Buffy, the other girl was still tracing Angelus-or-William-the-Bloody's face, her brow furrowed in faint puzzlement.

--

Later, they headed to the senior slayers' training room, where the other slayers who had passed the final exam practiced against real vampires.

"What are you doing here?" Faith asked, surprised to see Eve sitting on the bleachers.

Eve shrugged. "I was pulled out of regular training today to observe 'The Angelus fight.' Apparently, Miss Chalmers wasn't exaggerating." They all exchanged amused looks. Miss Chalmers was prone to hyperbole, especially when it came to William the Bloody and his family.

One of the older slayers sat down next them, grinning. "We used to call her the Spike fangirl in my class. Not that she was the only one. Once we'd met him, we all fangirled a little." She rubbed her neck absently with one hand, and handed Faith a stake with the other. "I'm Haru."

"Faith." She took the stake, frowning. "Are we fighting Angelus, too? Because I've only fought one vamp before, and she was kind of lame. And skanky," she added as an afterthought, making a face.

"Yeah, she gives you sluts a bad name," Eve muttered.

"Shut up, Eve," Buffy said, glaring at the other girl. "And you're one to talk. Everyone knows what you and Jack O'Toole did last week in the back of the library." Eve scowled back.

Haru watched them with amusement. "Um. All students are required to carry stakes into the training room. It's just school policy." She fished two more stakes out of nowhere and passed them to Buffy and Eve. "Once, Miss Calendar passed out during a battle and the wards went down. Trick nearly got his fangs into Lara before India got him with a crossbow." She smiled musingly. "She always was good with a crossbow…"

"What happened to her?" Buffy asked, her hands trembling, and Faith watched her carefully. Buffy always got weird when she heard about dead slayers. It had never really bothered Faith. But then, Faith hadn't had much to live for back at home. Her whole life was about being a slayer, and she'd never know any better. Death was just the next stage of that path.

Buffy, though…Buffy was still soft and innocent, and as determined as she was and as good a fighter as she'd become- second-best in the class after Faith- she wasn't ready for death. Her image of life outside of the Academy was bright and happy, and the loss of that frightened her. Buffy wasn't ready to die.

"She was the slayer before Beatriz. She lasted three years," Haru said, not without a measure of pride.

"Wait a minute." Faith squinted at the older slayer. "How old are you? If you were training with her, then-"

"I'm nineteen," Haru told her, and there was a note of wistfulness in her voice. "In four months, I'll be twenty."

"Oh," Buffy said quietly, moving a little closer to Faith. Faith knew how she felt. Sometimes, late at night she'd lie in bed and wonder where her life would go if she wasn't called, how empty it would be without that destiny. The watchers droned on and on about their purposes and how they could "be of great service" even if they were never called, but everyone knew that it was bull. A slayer who was never called was just… a _potential_.

The awkwardness that suddenly filled the area was dispelled when one of Gunn's assistants- was his name Miller?- cleared his throat from the front of the bleachers. "We'll be bringing in Angelus now. Please remain silent during the battle, your fellow slayer will need to concentrate."

"Who's going to fight him?" Haru asked, absentmindedly rubbing the side of her neck. To her surprise, Faith spotted two jagged scars there. It almost looked like she'd been bitten, and whatever had gotten her had hung on and refused to let go…

"Kendra." Miller nodded to the Jamaican girl seated alone in the front row, her back ramrod-straight and her stake held stiffly in her hand. Haru slumped in disappointment.

Faith remembered Kendra. She had barely made the cut into the year above theirs, and she knew that she'd only passed her exam a few months before. "Why is he picking a newbie?" she wondered.

Haru shrugged. "Who knows? Sometimes, if they think that a newish slayer is too cocky, they'll have one of the masters take her down." She rubbed her neck again, this time catching Faith's curious look. "I killed a vampire, a while back," she said by way of explanation. "As a consequence, I fought Spike way before I was ready." She shook her head. "He bit me, and even after they'd shocked him, he still kept biting. I guess he'd built up a resistance. Anyway, it took the highest setting to get him off me, and that was only after he'd lost consciousness."

"How about now?" Buffy asked, leaning forward. "Did you ever get to fight him again?"

Haru shook her head. "I'm still not ready for him. Few _slayers_ would be able to fight Spike and come out of it unharmed. But I got Drusilla pretty bad once," she said, perking up. "And she's got that thrall, so-" She stopped. "I think he's coming," she said in a low voice.

Kendra had moved to the front of the room and was waiting patiently for the master vampire to arrive. Moments later, Giles and Ethan entered the room, a few of the special ops watchers behind them.

"We had a problem on the way up," Giles told Miller apologetically. "We need to raise the electricity level on Angelus's collar. He's quite resistant."

Angelus wasn't the vampire that Buffy had been so enthralled by in the pencil drawing. No, he was tall and bulky and very good-looking. Faith felt a familiar smirk spread over her face. "Check it out. Another vampire hottie."

"Yeah." Buffy looked vaguely disappointed.

Angelus sneered around the room, his eyes stopping to rest on Kendra. She tilted her head in challenge. "Come and fight, vampire," she said in that oddly accented voice.

"Go to the circle," Giles instructed him.

Angelus laughed unpleasantly. "Go to hell," he drawled back.

Giles held up a hand. "Ethan?"

Ethan muttered a few words under his breath, then repeated Giles's instructions. This time, Angelus stumbled toward the circle, cursing softly.

Before long, the barrier was up and Kendra and Angelus were circling each other, Kendra wary, Angelus amused.

"This is what you send me?" Angelus said, cocking an eyebrow. "A mere babe, barely old enough to carry a stake, let alone know how to wield it?" Then he murmured something else, so low that Faith couldn't hear it, no matter how hard she strained her ears.

With an outraged yell, Kendra leaped at the vampire, fists clenched and stake outstretched.

It was over in moments.

Faith had barely blinked before Angelus was suddenly on top of a limp Kendra, leering down at her. He turned to smirk at the watchers. "She loses if I bite her, right?"

Giles nodded guardedly.

Without warning, Angelus reached out to grab Kendra by the front of her outfit, shaking her until she regained consciousness. Her eyes shot open, the expression in them a mixture of shock and anger and terror. "Morning, sunshine," Angelus purred, and then, quick as a flash, he tore her outfit straight down the middle in a single smooth move.

Buffy gasped in horror. Eve wrapped her arms around herself. Haru's eyes narrowed in concern. Faith tensed, waiting to see what the watchers would do. She knew the first rule of the game floor- _No interference during a fight._ But this wasn't a fight. It was…it was…

Finally, Miller remembered himself and hit the device that electrocuted Angelus, giving him a shock of such impressive magnitude that he flew backward, hitting the barrier and sliding to the ground, still conscious.

Faith stared at him with intense interest. What kind of vampire was he? He made her antsy in a way that no one really had before.

Then he turned to stare at the bleachers, his eyes roving from slayer to slayer, until they met Faith's…and held.

And for an instant, a thrill ran through Faith's body, terrifying her even as it excited her, and she shuddered, not quite sure from what other than that it had been triggered by Angelus's stare. She felt…naked. Alone. Afraid. Weak. And she was ensnared somehow, and she didn't quite know why or how.

He licked his lips, his eyes still fixed on her even as Kendra stumbled away and the barrier went down, and he rose slowly, a secret smile playing at the corners of his lips.


	9. Chapter 9

It looks like if I update weekly, this story is going to take over a year to tell, which is far too long in my book, so I'll be updating every Saturday and Wednesday from now on. I'm over ten chapters ahead right now, so hopefully, there still won't be any gaps. Thank you all for your feedback and support! I'm a bit behind on review replies, but I should get back to most of you by the end of today.

* * *

Giles sat down heavily at his desk. It had been a long day. First, there had been that incident with Kendra, and he knew that he should have been able to prevent it. They shouldn't have sicced Angelus on her so soon after she'd first started fighting vampires, especially not as the new vampire's first battle.

Perhaps Kendra had needed a lesson in humility, but it would have been best to pair her with Penn, or Trick, or even Elisabeth. One of the weaker master vampires, who wouldn't have been so...unpredictable. Jenny was with Kendra now, comforting her as only Jenny could, but the girl was so shaken that she would probably have to take at least a week off from training.

_And what then? What happens if she's called and unprepared, if she's still so scarred by Angelus that she can't fight properly?_ He massaged his temples wearily. He despised this even as he carried it out, hated the march that sent the slayers to their inevitable deaths. Fifty years ago, watchers were individually assigned to train slayers as soon as they were called, or sometimes, if they were found in time, when they were still potentials. Since the Academy had been instituted, slayers had begun leading longer lives and preventing more evil, not to mention the wealth of information that had come with the Demon Research Initiative's alliance with the Watchers' Council and the vampire captures that had followed.

But he could certainly see the wisdom of having each watcher only once feel the pain of losing a student when the slayer fell prey to her destiny.

He frowned at the three files still on his desk. Foonte, Krinden. Lehane, Faith. And Summers, Buffy. Krinden wouldn't be much of a problem, not after she'd failed the exam thrice and she'd lost one of her closest friends to her calling already. She would eventually grow overconfident, as all potentials did, but he wasn't concerned about humbling her right now. It was the other two who were the problem. Both were young, barely old enough to be called, and the firsts in their grade to make it to this stage in training. Certainly, both had that cockiness that so many young potentials developed after their first victories.

He couldn't have either one face Angelus, regardless of what his initial plans had been. Not after what had happened today. No, he'd have to arrange their first fights as senior potentials to be with other, equally dangerous vampires.

There. He marked it down. Following Spring Break, Faith would battle Kakistos, and Buffy would fight William the Bloody. That would be sufficient to remind them of how easily they could be defeated, and those two were hardly dangerous to slayers after all the years they'd spent in captivity. They knew their limits, and not to cross any lines.

Conditioning Angelus would take far more time.

A rapping at the side of his open door jarred him from his thoughts. "Mr. Giles?" Wesley stood awkwardly in the doorway, his hands stiffly at his side and looking for all the world as if he were a nervous schoolboy about to be disciplined. He never had adjusted to the change from student to faculty, regardless of how often Ethan practiced "friendly hazing" on the boy. "Ah…Mr. Harris is here for you."

"Send him in," Giles said resignedly. Thankfully, his would be the last unpleasant task of an increasingly unpleasant day. And certain matters had to be dealt with, no mater how much he might have preferred to sweep them under the rug. There was only so much time that the Academy could tolerate mediocrity before it became a danger. And the watchers-in-training were drawing closer to that time.

Xander Harris stepped into the room tentatively, his jaw clenched in a frustration that, had Giles not been looking for it, would have gone completely unnoticed. As it were, Giles chose to ignore it. "Have a seat, Xander."

Xander sat, studying the mug on Giles's desk – a _World's Best Principal_ one that he'd been given by an old, long-dead slayer years ago- in a studied attempt to avoid Giles's gaze. "I won't go home," he said finally, the tiniest hint of desperation in his voice. "I swear, I'll do better. I'll do anything. But I'm not going home."

Giles sighed. "Xander, every single watcher in this school has been accepted here on the basis of their particular talents for magic, or demonology, or simply research, with three exceptions. Of the three, two have proven capable and skilled, despite early misgivings. But you're simply not cut out for this work."

"You tell me this every year," Xander said sullenly. "Every time we get our grade reports, I get called in here and told I'm not good enough. But it's April. Why now?"

"This isn't a warning." Giles took off his glasses, and rubbed at them furiously. "Unfortunately, we can't assign you to a slayer or even a cell of demon fighters if you'll hold them back. And at this point in your schooling, there's really little more that you can do to prove yourself capable, and little purpose in teaching you any more."

"Oh, god." Xander's eyes narrowed in dawning realization. "You're really doing this. You're really going to send me home."

Giles studied his desk for a moment, unwilling to look at the boy. They hadn't lost a student since…well, since the one they didn't- _couldn't_¬- speak of. And this might have been a completely different situation, but it was nearly as difficult to address. He'd been made aware of what Xander Harris's family was like after Willow Rosenberg had first demanded his presence almost five years ago. He hated that he would have to doom Xander back to that life after all these years. But there was no other option.

Unless…

He looked up again, considering the possibilities. It wasn't a bad idea, after all. And it gave Xander another chance. "There's a reason why we're discussing this now, specifically," he said quietly. "You're aware of what will begin next week?"

Xander nodded. "Spring Break in Hell. The older watchers told us all about it."

Giles nodded. "Yes, I believe that that's what the students like to call it." He pulled the file from its place on his desk. "Each watcher in your year will be paired with a potential or a new senior potential and sent to an artificial hell dimension to be tested. You will be graded by observers and your partner based on your skills, and watchers and potentials will be ranked accordingly." Xander waited expectantly. "Initially, we felt that it would be a good idea to send you home beforehand, _but_, and this is truly your last chance to prove yourself, _if_ you can complete the test to our satisfaction, you may remain here on probation."

Xander nodded, taking a deep breath. "And if I fail?"

Giles met his gaze evenly. "I'm afraid that you will be asked to leave."

Xander's eyes narrowed again, but this time out of determination. "I'll do it," he said with certainty. "I _will_."

Giles smiled faintly. "For your sake, I hope that you do. You can go now," he assured the boy, and Xander left hastily, slamming the door behind him with a firm resolve that tugged at Giles's smile. The boy was dedicated and stubborn, if nothing else, and that might just be all he needed to make it through.

"He's a cute one," observed a voice behind him as thin, feminine arms snaked around his chair to his chest. "Very earnest. I like that in a man."

Giles gently removed the arms so that he could stand and take Anyanka into his embrace. "Do you think I'm earnest?"

"Worryingly so," she informed him, snuggling against his chest. "But it's part of why I love you. Come home now."

"No office sex?" Giles asked, slightly bemused. Anya so rarely passed up the opportunity to deface his desk with carnal activities.

She smiled against him. "Do you want to? Because I assumed that after today, you'd have wanted to do nothing but come home to me." She sighed. "I felt the girl's pain today, all sharp and afraid…I thought that you could use a relaxing night after that. I can play housewife!" she said brightly.

He kissed the top of her head softly, loving her a little more with every word. "I'd like that very much."

They were in his apartment almost before he had time to take his briefcase, and Giles's eyes widened in surprise at what Anya had prepared. The room was faintly lit by magical candles that could never be snuffed out, the table was set for dinner for two, and down the hall, he could see that his bedroom had been decorated with candles, as well.

She grinned at his expression. "I spent the afternoon preparing it. We'll eat, then have sex." Her face fell. "Unless if you wanted to eat while having sex, in which case I've set this up all wrong-"

"Not at all," he said hastily. "This is perfect."

He captured her lips with his own, catching his second wind in a burst of affection. She laughed and moved closer, insinuating her body against his own as he lifted her into the air. She wrapped her legs against him and they stumbled toward the bedroom, their only thoughts of each other, and how to become one again.

They didn't eat until much, much later.

--

"Do you have the wurmroot?"

Willow passed it to Amy, frowning. "Why do you need wurmroot? Myrrh's a fine substitute."

Amy shrugged. "Wurmroot's stronger."

From beside Willow, Tara said in low voice, "It's darker."

Amy rounded on her. "You have a problem with that? It gets the job done, yeah?" She shoved the myrrh at Tara. "You take it if you want some failed magic."

"Stop it, Amy." Willow snatched the wurmroot from her and put the myrrh in before Amy could protest. "We'll use the myrrh."

Ethan walked in, sniffing the air curiously. "Willow, did you use the wurmroot? The spell's weaker than your usual."

Amy shot Tara a triumphant look. Tara stared at the table, her cheeks reddened with embarrassment. Willow felt a pang of sympathy. "Wurmroot seemed _off_ in this spell, that's all," she said hastily. "Too dark, and if we're using it to imprison dark creatures, we should probably go with the lighter option."

"Good thought," Ethan said absently, pinching a bit of the mixed herbs and moving them between his fingers. Willow moved a little closer to Tara. She had a vague feeling that it would be best if Ethan thought that it was she who objected to the darkness, and not her newly initiated friend. Not that Ethan liked her better or anything.

Okay. He did. But that wasn't her fault, right?

Tara gave her a shy smile, Amy a deep scowl. Willow grinned at Tara and ignored Amy. "So!" she said cheerfully. "How'd we do?"

Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You tell me."

Willow stood with the other witches, extending a hand to each as they rose. "Ready?"

Tara's hand was shaking in hers as she whispered, "Ready." Willow tightened her grip on the other girl's hand instinctively.

"Let's just do this," Amy said, grimacing as she took the powdery substance they'd created and sprinkled it onto the floor. She took Tara's hand and they began to chant.

Willow closed her eyes, feeling their powers combine and build. This was the first spell that they were doing together with Tara and without Michael, and it felt…different. Stronger. Tara's magic was powerful, but it wasn't just that. There was a peace and skill to it that she'd never felt before. It was like…it was like Amy's and Willow's magics had been in disarray all the other times that they'd been together, and Tara's golden aura had cleansed it all into unity.

She clutched onto Tara's hands, unable to let go, unwilling to let them fall or part from the magic, the utter _wholeness_ that she felt. The light was surrounding them as the spell rose, their voices reaching a crescendo as the light shone brighter and brighter...

They weren't just wielding and calling the magic anymore. They _were_ the magic. And it spread within them, and Tara was within Willow and Willow was within Tara and it was …

With a shuddering gasp, she let the last words of the spell out and fell to the ground, her energy depleted and the rush taking all the strength from her legs temporarily. Tara dropped to the ground to hold her up, her eyes wide and worried and glistening with something like tears. Willow understood, because she was pretty sure that she'd been crying, too.

"Willow?" Tara whispered, and they stayed like that for awhile, staring at each other wide-eyed and unsure. Something had transpired, something vitally important, but it was so far from Willow's grasp that she was suddenly fearful that she'd never reach it again. Tara. Tara was the key to _it_, whatever _it_ was. Tara, who was gazing at her with that wonder and another, indefinable emotion…

"Are you two done yet?" Amy asked impatiently, and it was enough to make Tara jerk away and Willow remember herself. "We need to test the barrier."

Willow frowned. "Were-Weren't you doing the spell with us?"

Amy wrinkled her nose. "I _tried_. But then you two just dropped me and went all uberwitch when I tried to come back into the circle. Did it work?"

Willow and Tara both reached toward the barrier location, their fingers brushing against each other as they hit the solid wall in midair. Willow's fingers tingled where they touched Tara's. _It must be a side effect of the magic_, she thought wonderingly.

"Good," Ethan said, and there was a note in his voice that Willow had never heard before. His eyes were taking in Tara and Willow calculatingly, and Willow didn't like his gaze at all. In fact, for the first time in a long while, Ethan was making her extraordinarily uncomfortable. He took a step forward, and Willow instinctively backed up.

But all he did was reach easily through the barrier to muss her hair. "Keeps you in, lets us out. Good work." He quirked an eyebrow. "And tomorrow, maybe you can try this out without accidentally locking yourselves in the barrier."

Willow blushed with embarrassment at the realization of her error, and exchanged a shy but companionable smile with Tara. "We will," she said with confidence, and murmured the word to release the spell almost reluctantly. There was something so calming about being trapped and alone with the other witch, something she wasn't quite ready to give up yet.

But maybe she didn't have to. She'd had plans with Oz, but he'd understand. And she spent far too much time hanging out with the guys, anyway.

"Tara?" She turned to the blonde girl, who was still watching her with a warmth in her eyes that made Willow flush and momentarily forget what she'd been trying to say. "I've…uh…I've got some great spellbooks in my room." Amy would, as always, be absent from the dorm, hanging out with Warren and his sleazy friends and leaving their room nice and quiet for Willow and Tara to spend quality time together. "Want to check them out?"

Amy snorted, watching Tara with an odd gleam in her eye. Tara looked away from Amy, bright red again, and Willow narrowed her eyes at her roommate warningly.

But when Tara finally beamed and said, "I'd love to," Willow forgot all about Amy's nasty look, and Ethan's disturbing behavior. She had far more interesting matters to look forward to, and most of them had to do with the girl by her side.


	10. Chapter 10

Thanks for this chapter go to the awesome Disregard for her eyes and depravity counseling. ;)

* * *

"Um…hi." Buffy put her hands on the counter and looked up at Nigel. She'd only been in the library three or four times since she'd first joined the Academy, but then, she wasn't a watcher. Or even a casual reader. So she'd never had much reason to do so. She wasn't sure if she had much reason now. "I'm looking for something?"

"What can I do for you?" Nigel wasn't actually the librarian, she knew. The original watcher who'd worked in the library had been conspicuously missing lately. Cordy said that it was vampires, and that was why one of Quentin Travers's lackies from the Council had arrived to take her place, and Buffy believed her. Cordy may have been many things, but she definitely wasn't a liar.

Nigel himself didn't seem as unpleasant as Travers always did when he came visiting, so she smiled tentatively. "I'm, um…I'm looking for information on Spike?" she tried, hoping that he wouldn't ask her why. She still had no response to that question.

But Nigel just nodded knowingly. "New senior potential?" he asked, smiling faintly.

"Senior _slayer_," she corrected him. "Why?"

Nigel moved from behind the desk and set a brisk pace through the stacks, Buffy behind him. "Well, it's only natural that you'd want to find out more about William the Bloody. He _is_ widely considered to be the greatest fighter we have in custody, after all." He stopped abruptly, and Buffy nearly crashed into him. "I am impressed, though. It's rare to see a potential so responsible, and it's quite refreshing. Here we are!" He nodded to the long bookcase in front of them. "The third and fourth rows likely contain many references to William the Bloody. And _this_-" He pulled out a small, bound sheaf of papers from the third shelf from the bottom. "-Is Miss Chalmers's thesis, focusing only on William the Bloody."

Buffy took it gingerly, giving Nigel a thankful smile. "Can I just stay here and read it?" she asked hopefully. She didn't want to bring it back to the dorm. That seemed too…_real_, somehow. And until she'd figured out what she was looking for, she wasn't willing to explain herself to Faith or anyone else who saw the thesis.

"Certainly." Nigel gestured to the other side of the bookcase. "Behind that shelf is a small reading room. As long as you're quiet and respectful of the library's rules, you may stay here for as long as you'd like."

But as soon as he was gone, she sank to the floor against the bookcase, flipping rapidly through the thesis to find images. She stopped at the appendices, inhaling sharply at the clear photo she'd stumbled upon.

She didn't know what exactly had prompted this fixation, and she had no idea why she was so fascinated. It had started several days before when they'd first studied William the Bloody in class. His face had seemed…familiar, somehow, and even though she knew that it was impossible that she'd known him, not when he'd been a captive of the Watchers Academy for so long, she couldn't shake the familiarity.

_Maybe he has some long-lost descendant I knew back in LA?_ she wondered, tracing the sharp lines of his face and the long, honeyed locks of hair that were loosely tied up and hanging against his shoulder. Why else could she be so drawn to him? The laughing blue eyes were nearly staring directly at her, the mouth tilted in a handsome smile that made her shiver, the outstretched hand bent almost invitingly toward the photographer, and she pulled the booklet a bit closer instinctively.

"Who are you?" she whispered, stroking the image of his face. _When can I see you?_ Her class of senior slayers would hardly be fighting Spike anytime soon. Instead, they practiced sharpshooting and staking with young minions and the occasional older fledgling. The two times so far that they'd been called in to witness more advanced battles, Buffy had held her breath, hoping that she'd finally be able to see the strange vampire who puzzled her so. But they had been the two new ones, Angelus and Darla, and she'd sunk to the bottom of her seat in disappointment and watched the fights almost grudgingly.

She needed to see Spike. She needed to understand.

"Buffy?" The curious voice came from the other side of the stack, and she hastily closed the booklet when she heard it. "Is that you? What brings you to the library?" Willow stood with a quiet Tara Maclay, the sun shining directly behind her to frame her red hair in a halo of scarlet.

Buffy laughed nervously. "Just some research on what we've been studying lately. Nothing much."

"William the Bloody?" Willow asked, her sharp eyes catching the title of the thesis before Buffy could conceal it. "Oh, he's really interesting! I've read up on him before, especially since he's considered top dog of the Academy vampires, and his life could be a movie! Especially in the early years of the Scourge of Europe, when…"

Buffy tuned Willow out, clutching the thesis and feeling a wave of possessiveness toward it and its subject.

"If you're interested, I think that there are some video documentaries on it," Willow said suddenly, and Buffy perked up.

"On William the Bloody?"

"On the Boxer Rebellion," Willow corrected, frowning at her. "I'm sure that they have information on Bloody, too, and tapes of his fights with slayers, but we're not allowed to see them without permission."

"We should study," Tara said suddenly, but her eyes were probing into Buffy so deeply that Buffy was sure that she'd picked up on something beyond even what Buffy knew. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Oh, right." Willow shot Buffy an apologetic look. "We'll talk some other time, okay? If you have any questions…"

"I'll come to you," Buffy said, managing a smile until they'd turned away. She slumped back against the bookcase, opening the booklet again.

When she finally began to read the actual thesis, she discovered quickly that William the Bloody was a fairly normal master vampire. Carnage, a bloody trail through Europe…it was nothing she hadn't seen before in her studies. The references to Angelus were far more disturbing, as was the description of his mad companion, Drusilla, and her exploits.

In the year 1900, though, Spike had killed a slayer, and that bothered Buffy more than the normal violence and murders. One of her sisters had fallen at the hand of that…that _monster_, and here Buffy was, one hundred years later, just as enthralled with Spike as poor Xin Rong.

She turned to the appendices again and found the image of William the Bloody, stared into those lively blue eyes and wondered why she was so caught up in the image of a killer. _What does it mean? What am I missing?_

She must have dozed off at some point, because the next thing she knew, it was nearly dark out and someone was being pretty noisy in the row behind hers. No… some _people_.

"Do you ever shut up?" she heard a distinct, familiar voice hiss. Buffy smirked at the idea of Cordelia actually spending time in the library. The only reason any of the slayers ever came in was to-

"Are you complaining about this mouth?" someone purred, and Buffy's eyes widened. Cordy had a _guy_ back there! Oh, Faith talked about what happened behind the stacks sometimes, and some of the older students would make crude comments about meeting in the library when they were trying to pick up girls, but none of the guys that Buffy had dated (which, granted, wasn't a very large number. Faith liked to chase them off before they got to Buffy) had mentioned it as a possible makeout center. Buffy had always assumed that girls like her didn't do things like that.

Apparently, she was wrong.

Trying to remain as silent as possible, Buffy tucked the thesis, which had been still open on her lap, between two books on the bottom shelf and rose to her knees, peeking between the books to see who was with Cordy.

She nearly laughed when she saw that it was Jesse, of all people, who professed to hate Cordy more than anything.

He was kissing a line down her neck as she arched into him, stopping to nip and suck at her pulse point midway. Cordy let out a strangled sigh and shoved him, and they crashed against the wall opposite Buffy's vantage point with a dull thud. Jesse reversed their positions so that Cordy was backed against the wall, and then his hands went- Buffy squinted, startled- _down there_.

Cordy had parted her legs to give him easier access, and Jesse had pushed her skirt and panties aside and was moving one finger rhythmically, making Cordy gasp and moan with each stroke. Buffy watched, fascinated, unable to look away from what was happening. The furthest she'd ever gotten with a boy was when Owen Thurman had stuck his hand up her blouse when they'd been kissing and she'd pushed him away. What Cordy was doing was so beyond anything she'd ever experienced. And it was making her feel very warm and restless as she observed…

Jesse pulled down the spaghetti straps of Cordy's tank top with his free hand, brushing kisses down her full breasts until he reached her pebbled nipples, tugging at them faintly and biting softly at the smooth, tanned skin around them until her breasts were flushed red and Cordy had thrown her head back, panting.

Suddenly, Jesse's hand moved sharply to do something Buffy couldn't quite see to Cordy, his other hand moving up to cover her mouth as she screamed in some strange combination of pain and pleasure. She bucked wildly against Jesse, eventually sinking her teeth into his palm to suppress her shout before she finally collapsed, spent, against him. He took her into his arms gently then, holding her up as she panted heavily, kissing the top of her head softly.

Cordy finally seemed to have regained the ability to stand and was now kissing Jesse with all she had, her passion and exhilaration making Buffy squirm to try to ease the sudden, strange ache between her legs. Experimentally, she reached into her jeans to try to find whatever had made Cordy crazy, letting out a gulp when she felt how wet she was.

"Cor?" Jesse was frowning, pulling away from her and looking around. "Did you hear something?"

_Crap!_ Buffy fled through the other side of the row of books, and out of the library at top speed, completely forgetting her earlier mission and William the Bloody until it was much later at night and she was safely ensconced in her room. Even then, the image of Spike and the scene with Cordy and Jesse had become so mixed up in her mind that she dreamt that night of herself and the vampire in that corner of the stacks.

And when she awakened to Faith's knowing gaze, she was out of breath and felt even more unsatisfied than she had in the library.

----

The next time she saw Jesse and Cordelia together, they were sniping at each other as always with their groups of respective friends, but this time, Buffy spotted the little things that a casual observer might have missed- the secret smile on Cordy's face when she got in a particularly vicious jibe, the shine on Jesse's when he glanced over at her, the hunger in their eyes when their friends turned away… Buffy wondered if they were in love. Or maybe just strong _like_. And why hadn't they told their friends if they were together, anyway? It didn't make sense at all. Maybe it was a slayer-watcher thing.

"Hey, Buffy!" One of the younger slayers, a girl named Amanda whom Buffy had always liked, jogged over to where Buffy stood with Faith. "Looking forward to Spring Break in Hell?"

Buffy mustered up a grin at Amanda's eagerness. Slayers between fourteen and sixteen were all required to take the test, even though only one year of watchers had to do the same, and Buffy had already taken the exam once. Her partner had been a witch named Vaughne, who'd been uptight and overly dismissive to the point that Buffy had finally lost patience with her on their third day testing and rebelled against her orders. She'd been sternly reprimanded for that, reminded that the watcher was always right and that the slayer was merely an instrument, but she hadn't been able to bring herself to care, not when three-quarters of her class had been given the same speech. This year would be even worse, she was sure, now that she'd be paired up with one of her classmates. The older watchers had hated them on principle. Her year's watchers just hated them, period.

But Amanda was still young and excited, and Buffy decided not to crush her enthusiasm. "Sure," she said finally, glancing over at the watchers. Warren Mears leered at her, and she suppressed a shudder. If she was paired with him, she _knew_ that she'd fail.

"Who do you think you'll be with?" Amanda asked, following Buffy's gaze.

Buffy shrugged. "With any luck, Tara or Jonathan or someone who won't treat me like a tool."

Faith sniggered obnoxiously. Buffy rolled her eyes at her.

"Okay, get out of here, kid," Faith ordered at Amanda, strong-arming Buffy over toward the back of the room. Amanda gave a little shrug and moved back to her group, too wise to start something with the infamous Faith.

Buffy yanked her arm from Faith's grip once she'd stopped moving. "Amanda's sweet," she protested. "You didn't need to-"

Faith smirked and laid a finger on Buffy's lips. "Shh, Buffy. You don't want to miss Gunn's announcement, do you?" she asked solemnly.

Buffy shook her head ruefully. Faith could be so possessive with her sometimes.

But before she could object, Gunn had come to the front of the room and cleared his throat until the room fell silent. "Spring Training will start tomorrow morning at five AM," he announced, waiting good-naturedly for the boos and jeers that followed. "You'll meet here with your partner at five sharp, and you will all be deployed before six. Each team can bring a total of ten items which you'll prepare tonight, and that includes both essentials and weapons."

Willow's hand shot up. "What about food and drink?"

"All your food will be considered as one item," Gunn confirmed. "Same for drinks. But keep in mind that you'll be able to get a hold of something edible, wherever you end up, and that you'll need to carry whatever you bring." He turned back to the rest of the students. "Anything else?"

Percy West put up a hand, smirking cockily. "Where are we going?"

Gunn raised his eyebrows at Percy. "Wiseassery will get you nowhere. I'm not going to tell you anything about your location, the people or things you might encounter, or what my recommendations are. You're going with the bare essentials, and you're going to have to make do for a week. Got it?" Percy nodded, moving back into his protective circle of friends.

Gunn motioned to one of his assistants, Finn, who'd worked with their class when Gunn was away on Academy business. "Finn here has the one thing that I can tell you, and that's who your partners are for this little trip. Finn?"

Buffy crossed her fingers as Finn started on the list, mentally pleading, _Tara, Tara, Tara…_

"Abrams, you're with Kennedy," Finn announced. A low snicker ran through the room. If they'd ever needed proof that these pairs weren't randomized, it was that the class womanizer had been put with the class lesbian. Buffy grinned. It was probably best that way, anyway.

"Blaisdell, you've got Shannon," Finn continued. "Clarner, Chloe."

Buffy was dismayed to hear Amanda be put with Nancy Doyle, who was insufferable and arrogant and would definitely give the younger slayer a hard time. But it only got worse from there on.

"Harris, Faith," Finn said, and Faith's mouth fell open in surprise.

She slammed it shut, gritting her teeth. "Oh, you've _got_ to be kidding. I'm going to have to do all the work, aren't I?"

"Faith," Buffy said warningly, shooting a glance over at Xander to see if he'd heard. But he wasn't looking their way, just staring into space with a hopeless expression on his face.

"Levinson, Eve. Maclay, Cordelia. MacLeish, Chao-ahn," Finn went on, and Buffy winced. Tara and Jonathan had both been taken, and poor Tara was instead with Cordy, who looked just as irritated with her watcher as Faith did.

It came as a relief when "Rosenberg" was followed by Buffy's name, and a wide smile spread across her face as she glanced over at her equally beaming partner. After all, there was only one watcher who she considered something close to a friend, and she'd been fortunate enough to be paired with her.

It was a shame that none of their friends had been so lucky. And Faith looked even unhappier at the idea that Buffy would be spending a week with someone she liked than at her unfortunate pairing.

This was going to be a good thing for all of them, Buffy decided. Really.


	11. Chapter 11

"What do you mean we have too many items?" Cordelia demanded shrilly. "Ten- exactly- between the two of us."

"Eleven," Mr. Wyndham-Pryce said wearily, lifting up the last thing he'd counted. He tossed Tara a pleading look, but she just shrugged. There was no reason for her to start the conflict early.

"Uh, no." Cordy raised her chin stubbornly. "That's the same as this," she pointed out, lifting her hairbrush.

Mr. Wyndham-Pryce frowned. "How are a hairbrush and a blow dryer one item?"

"Well, _duh_." Cordy tossed her hair. "They're both _hair_ products. Seriously, _Wes_, don't tell me you've never seen one before."

Mr. Wyndham-Pryce opened his mouth, then closed it again, looking trapped. Tara was almost about to intercede for the poor man when Gunn finally passed by and put him out of his misery. "Suck it up, Cordy," he said, slapping Mr. Wyndham-Pryce on the back companionably. "Trust me, the last thing you'll need where you're going is a blow dryer."

Cordy glared at him icily, but he seemed unperturbed. Finally she turned on her heel and headed for where Miss Calendar and Mr. Rayne- no,_Ethan_, he liked to be called by his protégés- were opening portals, leaving Tara to follow with their bags.

"Wow, Cordelia," Jesse said sarcastically from where he stood with Oz, Colleen, and Rona. "Nice job with the packing. Because you're definitely going to need cosmetics more than you'll need a weapon. Great way to get killed."

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Oh, gee, and here I was thinking that I'd just spout useless facts about Hyur'ath demons at them and _bore_ them to death. But hey, guess that's the watchers' prerogative, huh?"

Jesse took a step forward, then turned abruptly and stormed out of the room. Cordy followed him a moment later, her face flushed with something that was probably anger and her parting words a mumble about yelling at Jesse some more.

"Great." Colleen rolled her eyes. "It's five forty-seven and I've already lost my watcher."

Tara glanced at the portal. Faith and Xander were disappearing inside as she watched, and Chloe and Sheila were next in line. Luckily, they were being called in order of arrival, and since Cordy and her hangers-on had been last to arrive, they probably weren't in danger of getting a mark against them already. Probably.

She envied Willow for her slayer. Everyone knew that Buffy was the most malleable of the slayers, as the only one who could handle Faith and who still managed to be fairly well-liked by the watchers (though Tara suspected that the other slayers weren't as fond of her, simply by virtue of that fact). Buffy and Willow had been the first full team to arrive in the training room, and had been on their way before most of the others had even arrived. Buffy would have been the perfect match for Tara. They would have made a good team.

_"You and your slayer are not a team,"_ she remembered the lesson they'd been given as watchers for slayers. _"You are responsible for her. You give her orders. She is a weapon, and you must wield it firmly."_

And _that_ was why Tara planned to work in the Council coven when she graduated, instead of working with a slayer. She wasn't one for giving orders. And even if she did, she suspected that they wouldn't be obeyed.

"Jesse? Colleen?" Miss Calendar called, and Jesse raced into the room again, Cordy right behind him.

Then Oz and Rona vanished within, and there was no left but Cordy and Tara.

* * *

Buffy slumped in her desk, staring blankly at the board. She didn't understand the lesson, and she was beginning to suspect that she never would. It was depressingly complicated. Did anyone else understand what was going on? But the only other student was Willow, and she was nodding, intent on the blackboard.

"Buffy!" The teacher at the front of the room turned around to glare at her. "Are you paying attention?"

Buffy straightened reluctantly. "Yeah."

"What are we talking about, then?"

She glanced over at Willow, who was mouthing something to her frantically. "Rage?" she guessed.

"Regus," the teacher corrected, her eyes narrowing in disapproval. "Willow, there's no cheating. You're both going to hell."

Buffy hung her head in shame, reaching out to squeeze Willow's hand. Willow was staring at the teacher in horror. "But we've never gone to hell before! We're not flame retardant!" Buffy said.

"You should have thought about that before you failed the test," the teacher told her.

"I didn't…I failed?" Buffy asked slowly, frowning in confusion. "Did I?"

"Here's the hall pass," the teacher told her, scribbling her signature on the cucumber and handing it to Willow. "Just follow the devil."

"We already do," Buffy confessed.

Something was wrong. Right? "Where are we?" she asked aloud as they entered the hallway.

Willow mouthed a response.

"Eyghon?" Buffy tried.

Willow shook her head.

The devil approached them, then, and beckoned. Buffy took a step back. Willow was mouthing something at her, but she couldn't understand. "I can't understand!" she told her helplessly, but Willow was still silent, her eyes frantic.

"Who watches the watchers?" the devil murmured in a low, gravelly voice, and then he was moving closer, changing as he neared, his skin smoothing and darkening, hair growing into a neat little afro around his face…

The woman in front of her said, "Do you remember me?"

Willow looked bewildered, and Buffy was shaken. "Who are you?" she asked dazedly.

"I am Regus," the woman said, and suddenly, she was someone else, a girl with long dark hair and a secretive smile, who came closer and-

"I am Regus," she said again, and she was another face Buffy didn't know, a beautiful, pale woman with haunting eyes who closed in on Willow and wrapped an arm around her neck. "I am Regus," she murmured, her face distorted and crumpled into a vampire's features.

And she sank her teeth into Willow's neck.

"No!" Buffy cried out, and she raced forward to yank the woman away. The long walls stretched around them, Willow falling limply against the side of the subway car, and there was something on the ground, something beautiful and dangerous and if she could have looked down, she would have loved it, but instead, she tore open the subway doors and leaped out, a hand pulling Willow with her.

Then there was darkness.

"Willow?" Buffy whispered.

Willow exhaled. "Yeah."

"Where are we?"

"Regus." Willow clutched her hand tightly in the dark. "It's a dreamworld. It takes things from your subconscious and traps you inside."

"Wow." Buffy frowned. "What…what did you see?"

Willow was quiet for a moment. "We were in my house. My mom was there, and she was…" Her voice trailed off. "You couldn't hear me. I tried to tell you, to save you, but you couldn't hear me."

"I'm sorry," Buffy murmured. "What now? Did we win?"

Then there was nothing but the raging sea, and the lurking ghosts, and her sister Willow, who couldn't say a word.

* * *

"Where are we?"

Xander squinted around. "I'm not sure." He'd studied the list of five hundred possible artificial dimensions they'd be sent to, but he didn't remember this one at all.

"What do mean you don't remember?" Faith demanded, turning abruptly to glare at him. "This is your job, _watcher_. You tell me what to fight and I beat it up. And how the hell am I supposed to fight anything here if I don't know what the enemy is?" The land they were standing on was sandy, dry and flat, almost desert-like in that if not in heat. It was also completely devoid of any life for miles, as far as Xander could see.

"How are we supposed to get food on a world like this?" Xander wondered. Were they supposed to be travelling? Gunn had told them that there would be something edible on each world, so there must have been more to the world than just sand.

Faith elbowed him. Hard. "My god, you're worried about your stomach right now?" she demanded incredulously.

"No, I-"

"I don't believe this!" she said furiously. "One thing, _one thing_ you need to do and you botch it. I should've guessed that this would happen…so now we're alone for a week, not knowing what to expect or where to go, or hell, even the name of this damn world!"

"Tatooine," Xander said suddenly, arranging his expression to something serious and businesslike. "Now I remember. It's Tatooine."

"Fine." Faith tilted her head up to the dim sun. "Okay. So what do you remember about the…" Her voice trailed off as she finally placed the name he'd supplied. "Screw you," she spat out, turning on her heel and stalking in the opposite direction of where they'd been facing.

"Faith…" He sighed. "We can't split up."

"Why not?" Faith retorted, spinning around. "I don't need you anymore. You had one job, and you failed miserably at that. The rest is up to me, anyway." She continued walking. "Useless waste of space," she muttered.

He felt a pang at that, a rush of pain that he quickly transformed into anger. "Oh, like you're any better?" he challenged, following her doggedly. "I might not be suited to be watcher, but you're not suited to be much of anything, are you?" he said coldly.

She glared at him. "What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

Xander shrugged nonchalantly. "Well, what do you think is going to happen when Buffy finally breaks out of that little cell you've trapped her in?"

"I don't know what-" Then the ground was suddenly moving beneath them, shaking and sliding as they struggled to remain standing.

"What the hell?" Faith cried out as the sand split beneath her, sucking her downwards with a loud, slurping sound. Xander's eyes widened as she sank lower and lower, and he dropped to the ground to wrap his arms around her waist and yank her out.

He grasped her tightly and she clung to his neck, tugging his head closer to the hole. "Watch it, or I'm going to be just as helpless!" Xander warned.

Faith gave him a dirty look. "If I'm going down, you are, too!" But she moved her hands to his shoulders instead, grasping so tightly that he could feel little rivulets of blood sliding down the back of his shoulders where her fingernails were virtually embedded.

"See, that's your problem," he gasped, tightening his grip on her. The ground lurched again, and Xander went flying, Faith still attached to him and free as a result of the force of the last tremor.

They landed hard on blessedly still ground, still tightly joined and panting with the exertion. Xander could see little sweat droplets running down Faith's face and matting stray hairs to her forehead. He brushed them aside with one hand, noticing with surprise that he'd let go of Faith sometime in the past few moments. She still hung on to him, though it might've just been to keep most of his weight off of her.

"I remember what world this is," he said suddenly.

She smirked up at him. "You picked a great time to finally be productive."

"I did," he informed her. "Because that quake means that-"

An enormous, sand covered amorphous creature shot out of the ground from Faith's sinkhole, roaring in hunger and heading right toward them.

"-The Narapset's coming now," Xander finished, rolling off of Faith so that she could stand.

"Thanks for the heads up!" Faith called over her shoulder, hurtling at the creature. "How do I beat this thing?"

He racked his brain. "Water, maybe?" They each had only two full canteens in their packs, and Faith's were leaking from where they had been caught in the ground. Wincing at the idea of giving up their last nourishment so soon, Xander reluctantly tossed one of his to her.

She caught it easily, popping it open and spraying it at the monster. It howled in agony and fell back, sinking into the ground even as its sandy skin started peeling off wherever the water had touched it.

Xander clapped, grinning, as Faith jogged back to where he'd been waiting. "Good thinking," she said grudgingly. "What now?"

And Xander was fairly certain that they were both thinking, _Maybe this won't be so bad, after all…_

It was, of course.


	12. Chapter 12

She crept through the dank, dark basement, avoiding the stares and leers from her audience as she moved on. It seemed like hours until she reached the cage where she'd been heading, facing the dark-eyed vampire who'd been waiting there.

"I knew you'd come," he murmured, his voice washing over her with silken sensuality. "Take the barrier down."

She fumbled with the charm in her pocket, finally pulling it out and murmuring the activation spell that would make the magical barrier fizzle in that particular segment of the basement. The blond vampires in the next cage, both small and compact and supremely disdainful, rolled their eyes and settled near the front bars of their cage to watch, murmuring biting words that almost shattered her, right then and there.

"Did you bring the key?" the dark-eyed vampire demanded in his soft purr.

She shook her head. "I couldn't…I can't…"

"You can't have it both ways," the blond woman drawled to the vampire, making him look to the vampiress suddenly. "You want a witch and a pickpocket. And the damned slayers are far too honorable to do the second."

He turned his attention back on her, and she shook. "Tell me, Haru," he ordered. "Who do you think will help our purposes when you're gone? One of the experienced potentials? The one I fought first last week?"

Haru tried to look down, but was unable to, his dark eyes forcing her to be still and obedient, enthralled by his gaze. "There…there is one. A new slayer. I saw…she was…she was taken in by you."

His hand snaked out through the bars to stroke the underside of her wrist hypnotically. "Like you were."

"Yes." A part of her rebelled against giving him the information, but she was too far gone to do anything but obey. "Faith. I think that's her name."

A slow smile spread across his face. "Of course it was." He waved at her dismissively, the dreamlike quality of her visit gone. "You're of no use to me anymore. Go back to your watchers."

"And the nasty little girl shall tell them nothing, isn't that so?" added a quiet, lilting voice from the back of the cage, where a flimsy wall gave the vampires some tiny semblance of privacy. A dark-haired, wild-eyed vampiress emerged to stand behind the vampire. "She shall forget this ever happened." Her eyes were as hypnotic as his, and Haru obeyed, sneaking back into the dormitories next door and into her bed, her roommate unaware.

When she awakened, she didn't remember a thing.

* * *

After that terrible first day, things had gone much more smoothly. For one thing, Xander hadn't messed up again. Granted, Faith hadn't really given him many opportunities to do much, but he was silent about that, in the name of peace. In exchange, she kept quiet about his inadequacies, but she could feel the tension between them growing, the pent-up anger they were still internalizing simmering just beneath the surface.

More tremors had erupted nearby, but thankfully, never directly below them like they had the first day, and they'd opted to flee from them every time, rather than to be forced to use their water on the sand demons that followed the quakes. They'd rationed what little food and water they'd brought, but by the time the fourth day came, they were completely out of supplies. "I don't understand," Xander said, frowning. "Gunn specifically said that we'd have edible food in this dimension. And I think I remember…no, that was the next world on the list," he amended.

"What was it?" Faith squinted out into the distance. There had been no tremors for at least a half hour. Had they reached a quiet spot?

"Cave world," Xander said, bending to close their tent. "There were streams and berries and this weird paste that supposedly tastes like gum…"

Faith sighed, irritated. "Why is it so easy for you to remember some random world we don't care about, but impossible for you to even figure out where the food is on this one?"

That defensive look that Xander got whenever Faith mentioned his great failure popped up again, and Faith suppressed the urge to stop talking to spare his feelings. Please. Like Xander couldn't dish it just as much as he took it, regardless of his hurt puppy-dog eyes. She stared at him stubbornly, waiting for the retort that was sure to come.

Instead, the ground split below them, and the two of them fell forward into the gap, grasping at each other for support. "I'm stuck," Faith said frantically, trying to use Xander's shoulders to pull herself up.

Instead, he was _pushed_ downwards, further into the hole. He grabbed her hands, giving her a dirty look. "Cut it out, we're both stuck!"

Faith angled her body, trying to reach anything solid nearby, but she came up empty. The ground was shaking, they were sinking, there was nowhere to go…

With a sickening squelch, she was pulled deeper, caught somewhere around the waist and crushed against Xander, her head pressed to his, her hands tightly wrapped in his big ones, her breasts smashed against his chest, her lower stomach against his hard…

"Really, Xander? Really?" she said incredulously.

His cheeks were hot against her face. "I can't help it," he protested, trying to shift his hips away from her, but instead, he stimulated his arousal even more. And twisted as it was, it was kind of getting her hot, to the point that she started squirming for friction as they fell together, her own nether regions sticky and warm.

They stared at each other for a moment, considering what was happening. Faith felt a shiver run down her spine. Oh, she'd thought about sex with Xander before. She'd thought about it with any of the hot guys in the grade. But this…this was closer than she'd ever gotten, and if they were going to be taken by the sand demon anyway…

The ground picked that moment to widen, and they fell together, landing with a soft thump on soft, mossy ground.

Faith looked around, noting the dark underground of the dimension, the long stream that reached ahead of them, the strange bushes packed with little blue berries, the white paste that covered the cave walls…

Xander gave her a sheepish grin. "Whoops?"

* * *

"Willow?"

But again, Willow was mouthing words at her, completely incomprehensible and unable to help. She bit her lip and focused out, into the water.

_"Regus…"_ the sea murmured at her, and she flinched, unsure of where she was. _"Regus…"_ it whispered again, the waves lurching upward, closer still.

A hand on her shoulder startled her in a foggy kind of way, and she slowly turned her body to face the vision behind her.

It was the girl from before, in the place she couldn't recall, the girl she didn't know. The long, dark hair was shorter now, and wildly crimped to her dark, bare shoulders. And it almost, but not quite, concealed the two tiny red circles on her neck. There was a secretive smile on her face. "You're just like me," she murmured, reaching out to touch Buffy's cheek softly. "Just like…"

"Me," he murmured, and he was very close, blue eyes fixed on hers, drawing closer and closer… He was glowing with an unnatural light, and she reached for him when he couldn't move anymore, touching the bars that kept him from her and sighing a little at the electricity that jolted her when he did the same.

Their fingers entwined and she longed to be closer to him, to be with him, and he was laying her tenderly down on the hard, cold bed that wasn't a bed at all, but an examining table. And then, as his lips touched her own, he stood abruptly and was a woman, cold and hard and wearing a white lab coat.

"The specimen is of Regus," she announced in a detached, clinical voice.

Buffy turned away, catching sight of a redheaded girl's back as she fled the lab. "Who are you?" she whispered.

She blinked and she was seated at the beach, rubbing lotion down Anya's back as Anya chattered on. "It's Regus, you know. It's all Regus, right, Willow?"

Buffy started guiltily, remembering her mute friend, who looked to her with helpless eyes. "And the one you're looking for, well, she's gone, isn't she?"

"I don't know," Buffy admitted, watching as Anya changed before her eyes, blond hair reddening, pale skin darkening, curvy figure becoming slim and sleek and exquisitely toned. She lay down beside her, waiting until the other girl propped herself up to look at Buffy.

"I am Regus," the girl informed her.

"Were you always?"

The girl considered. "Perhaps. I don't know. Once, I was something. For three days." She watched Buffy, considering. "Are you anything?"

Buffy shook her head. "Not yet. Maybe not ever." She closed her eyes.

When she opened them again, everything around her was blurry and flickering with an orange heat that enveloped her completely. "Regus?" she called out, coughing a little. "Regus?"

He stepped out, and this time, the man was someone very different than the one she'd seen before. This man towered over her, his eyes shining with calculated glee, his hands reaching for her…

And this time, Willow was there, moving through the fire, pulling her away and keeping her safe. "What do you think is going to happen to us next?" she asked worriedly, when there was nothing but darkness.

And they were both gone again.

* * *

All things considered, Tara reflected, this wasn't going so badly. True, Cordy was ordering her around when it came to some basic activities, but Tara held the true power in what she knew about this world. Granted, it wasn't keeping them safe from the plants that sprang to life as they passed them. But Tara's magic was doing a pretty good job of that, and for once, she was grateful to Ethan for helping them develop the barrier spell that was proving to be surprisingly useful.

"Take that, vine-boy!" Cordy said gleefully, watching as the plant-demon's vine's slapped harmlessly against the barrier that Tara had erected. "No one messes with me!"

"And me," Tara murmured absent-mindedly, focusing all her energies on that side of the barrier.

Cordy gave her a dirty look. "Hey. I'm taunting here, _watcher_." She made the word sound like a curse, and Tara was silent again. The less she provoked Cordelia, the better.

They stared at the vine creature silently for a while, waiting for it to tire of its attack so that they could move on. Instead, it continued its stubborn assault on the barrier, either unaware or uncaring of the fact that it couldn't penetrate their shield. Tara took a deep breath, exhaling slowly, letting the magic come naturally. It never worked very well if she focused too hard.

The image of Willow biting her lip with concentration as she tried to release the vast pockets of magic she held within nearly shattered her concentration right then and there. _Stop_, she reminded herself. _Don't do this to yourself._

She was almost relieved when Cordelia finally spoke, even if her words made Tara flinch. "You're gay, right?"

Tara gaped at her. "Wh-who told you that?"

Cordy shrugged. "Kennedy says you're gay. And she has that gay sensor thing. Gayradar or whatever. Do you think Colleen's hot?"

Tara flushed. This was _not_ what she had meant when she'd tried to tell Cordy that they needed to share to work together. "Why?" she asked finally. "I'm not really-"

"I mean," Cordy continued, ignoring her stutters. "Jesse's not into that whole pasty-pale sort of thing, right? Even if they're spending a week together. And besides, it is _so_ unprofessional for a watcher to sleep with his slayer. That whore." She frowned at Tara. "You're gay, you can tell me. I'm hotter than Colleen, right?"

Tara stayed silent, hoping against hope that Cordy would finish the conversation without Tara having to speak.

"Of course I am!" Cordy decided. "Jesse always checks out my ass when I walk past him. And I've never seen him give Colleen a second glance."

Tara sneezed involuntarily, and Cordy started, as though she'd just realized that Tara was there. "Not that I care," she said hastily.

* * *

She was tall, taller than she'd ever been, and the world was sharp and clear, even though she stared at it through darkened eyes. She was different, she knew, but she couldn't bear to look at herself and see the changes.

"Is this Regus?" she wondered. Her voice was cold and unyielding, and she nearly wept with loss at what had become of her.

Oz smiled with his eyes, reaching out to take her hand, and she threw him aside. "Willow!" he called out, and then he was devoured.

Buffy turned to stare at her, her eyes frightened. "It's all right," she said, but Buffy couldn't hear.

She walked aimlessly through the streets, Buffy at her heels, unsure of where she was supposed to be, where she was supposed to go. Finally, _there_ was Jesse at a side road, watching her with sorrowful eyes. "What have you done?" he murmured, and she struck him down, right then and there.

She was a goddess, a fearsome creature before whom all would bow, all except Buffy, who clung to her hand and sobbed because she couldn't hear. "It's Regus," she tried to explain to Buffy, but it was no use.

Ethan smiled down at her from a nearby building, and then he was in front of her, a finger idly stroking her cheek with affection. She tilted in toward him, knowing that he was power, and it was power…

…And then he was Tara, her paragon of light, and Tara leaned forward and kissed her on the lips, until Willow was nothing but a scared little girl once more.

"Regus," she breathed against Willow's mouth, and Willow fell to the ground with her, and they were one, the light of the magic embracing them both. And Willow was safe again.

* * *

"Can't you do anything right?" Faith exploded, and Xander sighed long-sufferingly.

"Are we really going to have this discussion again?" he wondered, sliding to the floor of the cage next to the stream. He tossed Faith his extra canteen and got to work on refilling his. "So I messed up a little. I forgot something. But we've managed until now, and it'll probably be smooth sailing from here on out. I'm pretty sure that the only demons down here are those Narapsets, and we've got plenty of water to take care of them now."

"You're unbelievable, you know that?" Faith dipped her canteen into the water, scooped out a portion of it, and gulped it all down. "How do you ever think that you can make watcher like this?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Xander demanded, remembering Giles's ultimatum with a pang. "I'm doing fine."

"Really?" Faith raised her eyebrows. "You honestly think that?" She stretched out in front of the river, her too-small (and most likely, intentionally so) slayer uniform riding up so high that Xander could see the black lace of her bra peeking out from underneath. He turned away from her, felling her smirk on his back. "Because all you need to do is forget one thing and your slayer's dead. Gone."

"Well, that's the point, isn't it?" Xander said nastily. "You slayers are so focused on becoming the big one, the important one, that you forget about the consequences. If you're fifth on the list, maybe you'll have to lose four friends to get there."

"I don't care about them," Faith shrugged. "Only Buffy."

"Oh, that's right!" Xander sat up. "You're Faith, the untouchable one," he said sarcastically. "You build a wall around yourself so no one can get in. Except Buffy." He leaned forward, supporting his face in his hands and resting his elbows on his knees. "Tell me, how much longer do you think you'll have until Buffy breaks free? Until she finally gets sick of your clinginess and jealousy?"

Faith looked away, and Xander almost stopped, but the words kept pouring out. "Everyone knows that you use Buffy as your shield to the outside world. As long as you have Buffy, you have a friend, someone out there who can tolerate you. But she's not going to take that forever. She's going to get sick of the way you try to keep her all for yourself, chasing everyone else away from her. And then you'll lose her too, and you'll just be lonely and bitter and ready for your death so the next slayer can take over as soon as you're called."  
He'd wanted to ask Buffy out once, had waited for her after class to invite her to the movie playing in town the next day. And Faith had come out first, backed him against the wall, and warned him to stay far, far away from Buffy Summers.

"Like you're any better?" Faith spat out, pulling herself up and standing. "You're only in the school because of Willow, and you're not good enough to be a watcher. You're just wasting away the years here, waiting for some miracle to happen and make you someone useful. But you don't have any of the strengths that you need. What's going to happen if you graduate? You're not getting a slayer, we both know that. You'll just be sent on some suicide mission and you'll die a gruesome death!" she finished, glaring at him.

"At least someone'll care when I die," Xander muttered.

Faith heard him, and her face, flushed with anger, darkened further. "I don't have to take this," she growled, and took off deep into the labyrinth of caves to their left.

She was out of sight before Xander could rise to his feet.


	13. Chapter 13

"Will?" Buffy asked tentatively.

"I'm here," Willow murmured.

Buffy heaved a sigh of relief. "Oh, good. I can understand you."

"But what if you're not really you?" Willow wondered, feeling a little thrill of fear at the idea. The one constant in this week-long dreamworld had been Buffy, and that Buffy couldn't hear her. This Buffy could hear her, and they weren't in the darkness that came between scapes. "What if you're just an illusion?"

"What if you are?" Buffy retorted, but she grasped Willow's hand tightly in her own anyway. "I don't think so, though. Because you're not shouting 'I am Regus!' every few seconds." They laughed shakily.

"Willow? Where are we?"

Willow frowned at their surroundings. "A castle, I think. Medieval." It was dark and gloomy, their only light shining from a faint crack between two stones in the higher segment of the wall.

"Creepy," Buffy said, reaching out with the hand that wasn't tight in Willow's to feel the cool stone. "Come on." She pulled Willow toward a wooden door carved in the wall and yanked it open with practiced strength.

They must have been somewhere near the top of the castle, because the door opened to a ledge of sorts, the kind that Willow had only seen in movies. And when she peeked over the edge, she saw that she was far above the ground.

Below them stood an army, and Willow's eyes widened. She hadn't seen more than one person at a time on this world, and she'd assumed that it was some kind of spirit guide. But this… this was _everyone_. All the watchers and watchers-in-training, the potentials and those who had become slayers, even some of the ordinary teachers who taught them the normal curriculum. They were all shouting silently at Buffy and Willow, shaking their fists furiously at them.

"Look what you've done," Cordelia hissed from Willow's right, just behind Buffy.

"Look what you've done," Jesse repeated, so close to Willow's ear that she jumped.

"We are Regus," they recited together, and with suddenly superhuman strength, they shoved Buffy and Willow over the edge.

They landed in water, the Academy swimming pool, surrounded by their glaring peers. "What are you doing?" Faith snapped, her eyes flashing.

"What are you doing?" Xander murmured sadly, beckoning to Willow. She squeezed Buffy's hand, more to reassure herself than her friend, reminding herself that they were alright. As long as they were together, they were alright.

"Don't do it." It was Mr. Wyndham-Pryce, his face somber as he looked down at them from the bleachers over the game floor.

"Don't do it," Gunn repeated from the other side, and then they were whirling in a circle, faster and faster and faster until…

"Good work." And there was Gunn again, but this one was smiling at them, helping them as they stumbled away from the portal. "You're done."

"Are you real?" Buffy whispered.

Gunn exchanged a glance with Giles, who stood with him in front of the portal. "They were in Regus," he explained to the other man. "They're probably on a wild trip right now." He turned back to them. "It's over, ladies. You made it. You made it."

And Willow finally dropped Buffy's hand.

* * *

He'd tired of searching for Faith after the first day, because it just wasn't plausible that he'd be successful. For one thing, the caves were endless. If he'd missed just one turn, he'd probably never find Faith again. And he was fairly sure that he'd missed more than just one of her turns.

So he'd headed back to where they'd started and slept by the stream, waking only when a sand monster appeared, and even then just to roll into the stream until it left. The water was surprisingly shallow at the edges, and he'd been safe, albeit bored, for the next two days.

Both his and Faith's words ran through his mind, over and over, until he finally reluctantly conceded that he'd been too harsh. But that was how Faith was, finding his sore spots and prodding them until he struck back. _That's why she has no friends,_ he thought nastily, then regretted it immediately. Who knew what Faith might have encountered in the caves?

He'd recalled, all too late, what the file he'd been given had said about the white paste gum. _Toxic if ingested in large quantities._He thought back to a hundred classes shared with Faith, a hundred times teachers called her out to dispose of her bubble gum. "She's right," he said aloud, because it had to be said. "I would kill my slayer." But "large quantities" meant nonstop for years, right? Not a few days. Faith must be fine. The watchers wouldn't put her in a situation where she could die.

On what he thought might be the seventh day, he heard the faintest echo of a call. He bounded toward the entrance, shouting, "Faith? Faith!"

There was another answering call, closer this time, and Xander sighed in relief. He called out in response, and she did, too, until she was so close that he could hear the actual words she was saying, and finally see her face as she jogged toward him. It was shining, and a part of him wanted to seize her and embrace her, so he ran to her, too, and they were soon standing in front of each other, their eyes wild with the worries and fears of the previous days.

They slowed to a halt a foot apart, and then they stood awkwardly opposite each other, remembering the reasons why they'd been separated. Xander finally reached out to touch her shoulder, and she flinched. He pulled his hand back, looking away.

Faith began the walk back to the stream, and he followed her silently.

She knelt by the stream, scrubbing her grimy face with slow, hard strokes. "I met up with some pretty nasty guys back there. Little white bat-things. Bite at noses and ears." There was a small gouge in one of her earlobes, and Xander crouched next to her to clean it with water.

He dabbed at it. "Does it hurt?" he asked finally.

Faith shrugged. "A little. But I've pierced my ears by myself at bunch of times over the years, so I'm used to it. It didn't tear off any skin, so it'll seal up and everything."

He rubbed the lobe gently between his forefinger and his thumb, his other fingers running through hair coarse with dirt. "I'm sor-"

"Don't," she said quickly, shaking her head and inadvertently moving his hand from her hair. "Just…let's forget it, okay?"

"Okay." They sat silently, side by side, at the stream, and Xander felt more alone then than he had all those hours when Faith had been missing.

When a whirling portal opened behind them and it was finally time to come home, it came as a welcome relief.

* * *

Giles was waiting for them when they exited, his eyes probing. Xander looked away, unwilling to let the principal see the defeat in his eyes.

Willow and Buffy were sitting together on the bleachers, and when Buffy saw Faith, she jumped up and ran to her. "How'd it go?" she asked breathlessly.

"You survived!" Willow chirped in Xander's ear, but he couldn't bring himself to grin back at her. Not when he was so close to his doom.

"Willow and I are going to get some celebratory ice cream," Buffy told them. "Do you guys want to come?"

"I'll pass," Faith said, a hint of…_something_…in her voice. "You…you go have fun with Willow. I need a nap."

"Okay," Buffy said, looking perplexed at the refusal.

Xander chewed on the inside of cheek. "No thanks," he said, feeling obligated to turn it down, just on Faith's account.

Willow pouted. "Maybe Jesse will," she said hopefully, waiting for him to emerge from the portal.

But he wasn't interested, either. Instead, he hung around in the corner of the room, dodging their curious stares. Oz said that he would, though, so Buffy and Willow left happily with him.

"Just go with them," Xander murmured to Faith.

She tossed her hair. "Screw you," she said, and stalked out of the room.

Xander went to stand with Jesse. "You okay?" he asked finally.

"Yeah." But he was still silent, watching the portal intensely.

Cordy emerged from the whirling black vortex, her head high and her back straight, and marched over to their corner. "Oh, look. It's the loser duo."

"Wow, Cordy." Xander rolled his eyes. Cordy he could deal with. She was brash and tactless and all they did was snipe at each other. Not like Faith, who got moody and quiet and knew how to hurt him where it would last. "That's creative."

Cordy flipped her hair. "Whatever. You have fun this week? Messed with an easy slayer?"

"Don't talk about her like that," Xander muttered, but Jesse and Cordelia were ignoring him, sharing a _look_ that made Xander uneasy and sort of ill. He left the room hastily, unwilling to think about what he'd just witnessed, and went to his room to start packing.

* * *

By the time Jesse returned to their room later that day, Xander was crouched on the floor in front of an empty suitcase, staring blankly out into space.

"What are you doing?" Jesse demanded incredulously. "Giles didn't actually chuck you, did he? The reviews aren't even until later tonight!"

"He's going to," Xander muttered. "I screwed it up. Lost my slayer halfway through the week, and she barely found me in time for the trip home. And things weren't going too smoothly before she ran, either."

Jesse shrugged. "So? Giles gave you _Faith_. He wasn't actually expecting her to listen to you, was he?" He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Way I see it, you have two options. You can tell the truth during your review and suck it, or you can blame the whole thing on Faith. I heard that she actually shot her watcher with a crossbow last year. You can tell them that she went all crazy on you like that, and they'll believe you over her. You won't be getting any points, but it's not enough for Giles to fail you in this, right?"

"I guess so." The idea of taking Faith down to save his own skin didn't appeal to him, but he had no other choice. Besides, it wasn't like anyone expected anything better from Faith, anyway. So when the review finally came later that day, he was determined to tell a story that would keep him in school.

"So she was insubordinate," Miss Chalmers clarified.

Xander quailed under her stern gaze. "I wouldn't say _insubordinate_, per se. She just didn't follow my orders."

"No?"

"No. She, um…I told her to set up shelter in one area, and she left into the caves instead. She refused to do what I told her to, and ran away when things…when things got tough, I mean, demony, that is…" Miss Chalmers was regarding him skeptically, and he sighed heavily. "I'm sorry, I can't do this."

"Pardon?"

He chewed on his lip pensively. "We had…an argument. But other than that, Faith did a great job. She fought back demons, even when I wasn't around to ID them, she found her way around the caves– and believe me, that's harder than it sounds- and her survival skills weren't bad, either."

"I see." Miss Chalmers was regarding him thoughtfully. "And how would you rate your own performance?"

And the truth all spilled out then, and even though Xander knew that he was sealing his own fate by telling it, he couldn't seem to stop the deluge of words, the confession of his failures as a watcher and leader and even a tracker. Miss Chalmers took it all in calmly, jotting down notes on her paper, and politely looking away when he got a little choked up. He hastily rated Faith's and his own various skills on the paper she gave him and excused himself, avoiding the waiting watchers-in training's inquiring stares and heading to his room as rapidly as he could.

It came as no surprise when he was summoned to Giles's office later that day, and he followed Mr. Wyndham-Pryce into the room with leaden feet, taking a seat and tensing for the expulsion to come.

Giles rifled through his papers before producing his file, frowning faintly, and Xander slouched down in the chair.

"Sit up straight, Xander," Giles said, not looking up. "I'd like to discuss your future here with you."

Xander straightened, waiting, his hands tense against his knees.

"You stated during your review that you don't consider yourself suitable watcher material," Giles noted. "That you lost your slayer, and that you alienated her, obstructing the mission instead of furthering it. You failed to identify the world until after a threat had made itself known, and even then, took several days to discover a source of sustenance on the world. You've stated that you believe that had you been in a non-artificial setting, you believe that you'd have killed your slayer."

Why wouldn't the ground open up and swallow him already? Xander stared blankly at the desk's surface, his eyes seeing but not absorbing, his hands loosening on his legs in acknowledgement of his defeat.

"Faith, however, disagrees."

Xander looked up to meet Giles's smiling gaze, unable to believe what he was hearing. "She _what_?"

"She disagrees, Xander." Giles pulled out a second paper. "She claims that there were some personal conflicts, but that you both did rather well when working together and on your own. You were able to help her defeat the demon you faced together, and you rationed your food as well as possible, considering the amount of time that you were trapped aboveground, which shows a remarkable amount of foresight. She also notes that at one point, you saved her at the risk of your own life."

Xander's mouth was gaping open, but he couldn't seem to shut it, or to find words appropriate for the moment. "But…but…"

"You did have trouble identifying the world, but really, Xander, we hardly expect you to have memorized every last detail of each world or demon," Giles said, his eyes crinkling with something akin to amusement. "That's why we watchers tend to carry along stacks of reference books on our every endeavor. What is important is that you acted with courage and valor, and that, more than anything, is what we desire from all our students. I'm not going to delude you into believing that you're watcher material for a slayer, but you've certainly proven yourself capable enough to fight in a cell of watchers and former potentials. In fact, you'd be quite an asset." He stood to reach over and put an encouraging hand on Xander's arm. "You're a credit to us all."

* * *

He'd been stunned to tears when he'd first heard the news, and Giles had seemed uncomfortable, his natural British standoffishness combating his desire to help his student, but he'd finally sat silently with him, looking nearly as relieved as Xander felt. Eventually, a student had arrived for a meeting with Giles, and Xander had left the room in a sort of haze brought on by his own disbelief and gone to tell Willow and Jesse. Both had been understandably excited, and even the rarely verbose Oz had congratulated him for his victory. They'd all celebrated together, especially since they'd all done well, and Willow had even scored in the top four in the class (as was customary for Willow, and it came as a surprise to no one).

Eventually, Xander excused himself and headed for the slayers' hallway, pausing to look for Faith in their students' lounge. She was sprawled out in a corner, playing a game on those handheld Gameboys that had been really popular a few years before, and didn't even look up when he approached and stood over her.

"What's _he_ doing here?" Cordelia said loudly and with extraordinary distaste from one of the couches.

Caridad shrugged. "Maybe he's into Faith. Gross."

Colleen wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, that whole little Rosenberg group is all slayer-lusty. Like Jesse? He totally has the hots for you, Cordy."

Cordy sniffed. "Please. As if he ever has a chance with me."

They giggled together, and Xander tuned them out, focusing on Faith.

"Get out of here, Harris," she said curtly, her eyes still glued to the game.

He shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "I just wanted to say thank you. For the review."

She rolled her eyes. "Get real, Xander," she drawled. "I didn't praise you to the skies or anything. Just told the truth."

But there was a little half-smile playing at her lips as she turned to watch him leave the room, and he walked out with a bit of a spring to his step.


	14. Chapter 14

It's looking like what with finals, Seasonal Spuffy, and the S8 comics fic-writing at LJ, I'm falling behind on my writing schedule...which means only one update a week starting next Tuesday (you'll still get a Wednesday update this week). :( But Spike and Buffy will actually (gasp!) _interact_ very, very soon, if it's any consolation!

* * *

"Hi, Buffy!" Willow bounced into their room, full of cheer and enthusiasm. "Hi, Faith," she added as an afterthought.

Faith grunted in greeting, sliding down her bed until she was lying down, and rolled away from the perky girl who'd just entered the room. Just what she needed, more time with Willow.

Buffy gave a Willow a welcoming grin. "Hey! Skipping lunch?"

Willow shook her head. "I thought we could get something from the cafeteria and have a picnic? Jesse's all MIA again, so just Oz and Xander and me. Oh, and maybe Tara!" She beamed.

Faith bit back a scowl. What was going _on_ with those two? They were watcher and slayer; they weren't supposed to get along, and if the other slayers realized how close they were getting, Buffy would be in deep shit. Cordy would never accept a slayer fraternizing with their nemeses.

"Faith? You coming?" Buffy said inquiringly, reaching for the sweater she'd left on her bed after morning classes.

Faith opened her mouth to accept- someone had to keep Buffy out of trouble- and swallowed the words before they came out.  
_  
"Tell me, how much longer do you think you'll have until Buffy breaks free? Until she finally gets sick of your clinginess and jealousy?" Xander's eyes, full of hurt and anger as he reminded her of her own weakness.  
_  
She rolled over, away from them and facing the wall. "I'll pass," she said dryly, and waited for them to give up and leave.

She wasn't keeping Buffy from everyone. She _wasn't_.

Right?

* * *

"Shame that Faith couldn't come," Willow said, but she didn't sound very regretful.

The need to defend her best friend rose to the forefront, but Buffy forced it down. It was true, most people couldn't handle Faith like she did, so they missed out on how great a friend she could be. It wasn't Willow's fault that she'd never gotten to know Faith.

Or that Faith was probably in a snit in their room because Buffy was branching out and making new friends. Faith had never wanted her to be close with Willow, anyway. "She has a fight today," Buffy said at last. "Her first one-on-one since she made senior slayer. I guess she's just nervous."

Willow laughed. "I can't imagine Faith nervous." They made their way down the hall to the room that Tara shared with Marcie Ross. "Tara?" Willow called, knocking on the door.

Tara opened it, smiling at them. "Hi."

"Want to come to lunch?" Willow asked hopefully.

Tara's face lit up. "S-Sure."

They climbed down the stairs, stopping to pick up Buffy's personalized portion of food and heading to the front lawn where Xander and Oz were already waiting for them. The Watchers Academy was a large mansion with an enormous driveway and front lawn that was concealed by tall bushes, still close to the center of town without being too conspicuous. They were permitted to wander the nearby town during their breaks, but on warm spring days like this one, most of the students had set down on the grass to eat their lunches together. The boys had staked out a much sought after spot under a shady tree and set out the rest of the food on Xander's jacket while they waited.

"What, no Faith?" Xander asked, rolling his eyes. "She didn't want to hang out with us? There's a shocker."

Buffy was a bit disappointed at his carelessness. She'd hoped that after their mission together, Xander and Faith would have become friends like she and Willow had, but they'd barely even acknowledged each other over the few days since spring break. It was a shame. Faith could use another friend.

"Don't be mean, Xander," Willow said sternly. "Faith is Buffy's friend. And she has a big fight later, that's all." But she didn't sound so convinced. "Hey, so did you have your fight yet?" she wondered.

Buffy shook her head. "Nope. Mine's tomorrow." She wondered which vampire she'd get. The other slayer who'd passed the exam hadn't gotten an especially dangerous vampire when she'd fought yesterday. Not like Angelus and Kendra, anyway.

"Great! We can come and cheer you on!" Willow grinned. "Now that we made it through Spring Break in Hell, we're allowed to watch fights. As long as we don't have class." She made a face. "Oh, but I have magic! I can't skip that!"

Oz nodded. "Whereas the rest of us would do it in an instant."

"Yeah, if I have an excuse to ditch another class with Mr. Rayne, I'm _there_," Xander announced. "He doesn't take attendance anyway, just hands Willow the assignment and makes her and Amy do it for the whole class."

"Miss Calendar was better," Buffy remembered. She hadn't taken magic since she'd started her slayer training in earnest, but she'd always liked having their house mother as their teacher. "She'd go through it once at the front of the room, and then pair us up to do it on our own. Faith liked to blow things up."

"I remember," Tara said, smiling, and they shared a conspiratorial look. Tara had been the most experienced witch of all the watchers in the class back then, and she and Jonathan had usually been the ones tasked with cleaning up Faith's messes. Buffy liked Tara, despite the shyness that had always kept her distant from her peers. She'd never treated the slayers like dirt, even though they were all nasty to her on principle.

Speaking of which…

"Really, Buffy? Hanging out with the watchers?" It was Caridad and Eve, both their faces challenging and disdainful. "We thought you knew better than that. When Cordy finds out…"

"There's no rule against being friends with a watcher," Buffy retorted, her eyes narrowing at the two. As bad as some of the watchers could be, Cordy and her little gang were worse. "And I'm not afraid of Cordy." She was probably off somewhere in the library with Jesse again, anyway, so who was she to talk?

Color rose to her cheeks at the memory of what she'd seen that day, and Eve misinterpreted it for embarrassment and leaped back onto the offensive. "It makes sense, I guess," she muttered to Caridad, loud enough for all of them to hear. "Watchers are just one step down from Faith the ho." They laughed derisively, and Buffy moved to climb to her feet angrily.

Xander put a hand on her knee, stilling her. "Get out of here," he snapped at them, and they swaggered off, laughing. He turned back to Buffy. "Just ignore them." He shook his head ruefully. "They'll get over it. It's not like you're the first slayer to hang with the watchers." He considered. "Well, probably not. And besides, who could resist us?"

She gave him a small smile and settled back down stubbornly. "Yeah," she agreed No way would she let the other slayers bully her around. They hadn't even made senior slayer yet!

"Caridad should just go back to whatever weird country she's from!" Willow said loyally.

Oz quirked an eyebrow. "New York?"

"Oh." Willow blushed, smiling good-naturedly. "I knew that."

"Sure you did," Buffy teased, relaxing. This was fun. She liked Willow and her friends, and she was going to spend time with them regardless of what the other slayers wanted.

Or did.

* * *

Xander was there.

Great. Faith gritted her teeth. Of all the people that she didn't want to watch her first fight, Xander Harris came first, especially after the whole…

He was judging her right now. She knew it. Sitting next to Buffy, looking vaguely interested, and thinking, _Oh, look, it's Faith, who's so insecure and lost that she's probably going to lose miserably. This should be fun to watch.  
_  
Dammit.

"Ready, Faith?" Gunn looked concerned at her distraction. "Not really the time to think about boys," he warned her, and she tore her eyes away from Xander and Buffy.

"I try never to think of that one," she told him, rolling her eyes and stretching her long, lithe body outwards in a single move. Xander's eyes were suddenly glued on her. She smirked. "I'm ready."

"Kakistos?"

The vampire scowled at Gunn, but moved into the circle obediently. Faith gave him a cursory glance. He didn't look so tough, didn't walk with much of a swagger or anything, but there were no discernable weaknesses, either. He just…was.

And then the barrier went up, and he _changed_. While his stance had been diffident before, now he moved quickly and with agility that she wouldn't have expected from someone so bulky, and it took everything she had to jump out of his way.

He caught her by the arm, swinging her back toward him, and threw her against the wall, laughing nastily. "Weak little girl, did you think you'd be a challenge?" He stalked back toward her, and she backed up, her eyes wide with sudden fear. Harmony had been a joke, no more dangerous than one of her classmates. Kakistos was the real deal, skilled as the vampires she'd learned about in school. He could…with one move, he could…

She looked to Gunn with guidance, wriggling along the wall away from Kakistos. He started forward and watched her with amusement as she scrabbled away. Gunn stood silently, watching expressionlessly from behind the barrier.

"He won't save you," Kakistos laughed, and he moved again, even faster than before, and slammed her in the face.

_Pain_. It seared through her, tears springing to her eyes from it as she reached to feel the damage to her nose, but she forced herself to focus. This wasn't how it was supposed to go. She was a slayer, _not_ a victim.

She staggered up, pulling blindly at her stake, and staggered forward through the blinding haze of pain. Kakistos struck her aside. "Pathetic," he noted, and it was with a hint of weariness. "I was hoping that you would at least serve as a diversion, but you're nothing." Heavy hands lifted her, and she felt more tears sting her eyes, and this time not from the pain. "Nothing!" he repeated, and tossed her in the air, catching her before she could swing at him and hurling her against the wall.

"Please…" she whispered, the terror overcoming her again. She didn't know what she was pleading for, just that she wanted it all to be over, to be away from Kakistos…

He chuckled coldly. "I love it when they beg." Two cold points touched her throat, and then Gunn was calling it and Kakistos dropped her, the match over and he the victor.

Faith lay in a heap on the floor, unwilling to look up and face her friends after her humiliation. How had it gone so wrong? When had she become so weak? Hot tears stained her face. _Kakistos was right. I am pathetic. _

"You okay?" Gunn squatted down next to her, his expression sympathetic and just a hair too pitying for her taste.

"I'm fine," she spat out at him. Her nose didn't hurt much; it probably wasn't even broken. She_was_ fine, and, that made her ignominious defeat chafe even more.

"We'll take her back to the dorm," she heard Buffy's soft voice from above her, and she clenched her eyes shut. _We? No. Not him, too… _

But it was Xander who helped her up, and that was too much disgrace for her to bear. She shoved him aside. "I said, I'm _fine_!"

"Let her go," Buffy was saying quietly, but Xander ignored the other slayer, barreling after her instead.

"You're injured," he said quietly. "Look, I know that this can't be easy, but-"

"Get the fuck away from me," she hissed at him, the anger giving her enough energy to turn on her heel and stomp out of the room. She barely caught a glimpse of Xander's hurt face hardening before she was _gone_, out of the school that had given her everything for this moment, far from her best friend and competitor, far from the teacher who'd trained her and expected more of her, far from the boy who'd somehow gotten under her skin last week and was probably enjoying this way too much.

This wasn't over, she decided, channeling her pain and shame into rage. Kakistos was going to pay for what he'd done to her.

She leaned heavily against a tree in the side yard of the school, reaching upward with one hand to grab the closest branch and crack it off the tree. She let her tired body sink to the ground before she began cleaning it off and smoothing it down.

Oh, yes, Kakistos was going to rue the day he'd humiliated Faith the Vampire Slayer.

* * *

Cognizant of her friend's needs, Buffy didn't go after her, giving her the time alone that she desired. "Don't go after her," she warned Xander.

He sighed. "Look, I know a little bit about failure." He gave her a sheepish smile. It was a well-known fact that Xander wasn't exactly at the top of the class, or even close to most of the typically overachieving watchers. "Maybe I could-"

"Trust me," she cut him off. "Faith wants to be alone." She was glad now that Willow and the others had decided not to skip class and come. As it was, no slayers from their grade had seen the fight, and only a few watchers who'd probably know better than to provoke Faith about it had been there. No one would bring it up again, Faith would fight a few of the weaker vampires and win, and she'd be back to normal soon enough. Buffy was sure of it.

"She'll be fine," Gunn said, mirroring her thoughts. "Just give her time."

Buffy turned to him. "This is it, isn't it? The fight that we're supposed to lose to take us down a peg or two. The vampire knew it, too, didn't he?"

Gunn nodded. "He's a master vampire. They only fight the best and the newest. And at this point, most of them have been here long enough that they know their place."

Buffy frowned at Kakistos. Only one watcher had brought him upstairs, and they were talking as they exited the room, side by side. As if they were equals.

"The older ones are more predictable. They've accepted their place," Gunn explained. "We've had Kakistos here for nearly two decades, and he's used to this life, which isn't back for him at all. The younger ones, they get injured a lot, they're not as set in their ways…they're harder to control. But master vampires here? They have it easy."

Buffy remembered Webs, the way he'd been bleeding profusely as she looked on, victorious. "I guess so," she said, feeling suddenly uncomfortable with the topic. "Um…so who am I fighting tomorrow? Kakistos again?" A wave of dread passed over her at the thought. "Angelus?" _That_ idea was even more frightening than the first.

Gunn shook his head. "Nah, Giles picked one of my favorites for you, you lucky kid." He mussed her hair fondly. "You're fighting Spike."

Her eyes rounded at that, and she quickly pressed her lips together to hide her excitement.

Gunn saw it anyway, and he gave her a faint half-smile. "Favorite of yours, too?"

Buffy shrugged, trying to stay nonchalant. "We're learning about him in class, that's all."

But as soon as she left the room, she bolted for the library at top speed, nearly crashing into several of her classmates in the hall. She didn't even stop to apologize, too focused on her mission.

She was going to meet William the Bloody.

And she wasn't going to fall to the same fate as Faith. No, she was going to get to know her enemy, and make sure that after tomorrow, _he_ was going to remember her, too.


	15. Chapter 15

No worries, Spike and Buffy will be definitely meeting in about four or five chapters... Just kidding! :D Here it is, the moment you've been waiting for...

Oh, and a reminder- until things settle down, I'm returning to my earlier schedule and just posting on Tuesdays. It shouldn't be more than a few weeks of that, though.

* * *

Faith had reappeared in their room sometime after Buffy had fallen asleep over Miss Chalmers' thesis that she'd "borrowed" from the library, and now she lay stiffly on her bed, breathing evenly in deep, long breaths. Of course, Buffy hadn't been Faith's roommate for five years without picking up on some of her tricks.

"Faith? I know you're awake." Nothing. "Come on, Faith, you skipped morning classes, but my fight's now. Can't you come?" she pleaded. It would be good for the other slayer to watch Buffy lose miserably, too, would remind her that this was natural.

_Hey, maybe I'll win!_ she thought brightly, then shook her head at her own optimism. This wasn't intended to be a battle that anyone could win. In fact, the only person who'd ever beaten Spike was that slayer who'd died in his capture…what was the name?

She reached for the thesis again. Right. _Nikki Wood_. Eleven years previous, in New York. She'd specifically been deployed to capture him, and Giles and another watcher had arrived in New York to take him into custody. She skimmed the names, frowning. _Rupert Giles. Rutherford Sirk. Bernard Crowley._ They seemed almost familiar, like she'd heard them before…

She shook off the déjà vu determinedly. They were watchers, of course they'd been mentioned at some point in school. But she couldn't let it distract her, not now, when she was finally fighting Spike.

She flipped to the back for a moment to stare at those laughing blue eyes, flushing slightly at the idea of them fixed on her in just a few minutes.

Maybe she should wear a different slayer uniform. She'd picked the black one, since it was the most businesslike, but the dark green one brought out her eyes nicely.

Then again, black was pretty flattering on her, too.

She checked herself out in the mirror, raising her eyebrows when she spotted the reflection of Faith's eyes open and on her. "Coming?" she asked pointedly. Faith's eyes closed.

Buffy sighed. "Fine, don't watch William the Bloody crush me. I don't need your support or anything." She slid the thesis under her mattress, put her hair up, and headed out of the room.

Faith followed moments later, tucking her sharpened wooden stake into her pants as she headed for the training room.

* * *

"Faith's not feeling well," Buffy said apologetically when she reached the training room.

Gunn smiled knowingly. "It's cool. Most slayers need a few days off after their first fight with a master."

"Oh." She blinked up at the bleachers, sighing a little. She recognized a few of the senior slayers who were a year or two older, and four watchers from her grade who'd apparently decided to miss class, but none of her friends had come to cheer her on. Mr. Rayne was giving an exam today, so all of his students had to be there for that.

"Good luck, Buffy!" Haru called from somewhere near the top, and Buffy smiled at that. At least someone was cheering her on. Eve sat with Jack O'Toole, Larry Blaisdell, and Percy West, all of whom looked smug and condescending at the idea of Buffy actually winning the fight. Buffy scowled. For someone who had been all over her the previous day for hanging out with Willow, Eve was keeping company with more than enough watchers. _Just because they're tough and male, it doesn't mean that they aren't jerks…_

"You'll be fine," Gunn said soothingly, sensing her tenseness. "Spike does this all the time. He knows how to work with new potentials."

"I guess so." Buffy turned her attention to the door through which the vampires always came. "He's not like Kakistos?"

Gunn sighed. "Kakistos was…better suited for Faith. Spike's better suited for you. I spar with him sometimes, and believe me, he has no patience for mind games. He'll just decimate you."

"That's pleasant, thanks." Buffy rolled her eyes good-naturedly. "I can hardly wait."

Gunn smirked. "Well, you're in luck," he noted, and the door flew open and Spike strode in.

Spike was a performer, Buffy realized immediately, putting on a show for them all. He led the watchers into the room instead of the other way around, turning from side to side to flash all the observers a brief smirk before he even turned to look at her. The vampire wore the plain black outfit that looked so drab on most of the vampires like it was a second skin, a perfectly tight fit that only served to accentuate a muscular physique and skin pale as the whitest marble. His hair wasn't as she'd seen it in the photos. It looked as though it had been recently bleached blond, and Buffy allowed herself a moment to wonder how he'd done it- a question that fit neatly in with Freddy Iverson's list of mysteries, topped by the "when do the vampires shower" question that had dominated all their conversations back when they'd all been twelve.

Spike approached them theatrically, turning that incredible gaze on Gunn. "How's it going, Charlie boy?" He had a coarse British accent. Oh, god. How was she supposed to fight him?

And then he turned to her for the first time, and another piece fell into place. "Hello, cutie," he smirked, and Buffy_remembered_.

Had it really been that long ago when she'd last seen this face, asleep as though in death? She'd drawn so many pictures when she was younger, had even still had some hanging at the bottom of the closet- childish drawings of a man with pronounced cheekbones and the whitest of hair. She'd asked her mother about it back then, but the woman hadn't been willing to supply the answers. Joyce had said that it was a silly phase she'd gone through when she was younger, and it wasn't important. But now she remembered, and it all came back to her in a flash.

_"I'm Rupert. This is Bernard and Rutherford."_

__

-A woman, one she'd seen on Regus just the week before, stumbling out of a subway car-

_-And this time, she looked down, and saw the face of an angel._

No, she corrected herself, staring at him with wide eyes. He had the face of a devil, the kind who you knew was the devil and loved him even more for it.

He arched an eyebrow at her. "Something wrong, love?"

_Vampire_, she reminded herself, and moved into battle stance.

* * *

This potential was adorable, Spike decided, leaning against the magical wall that surrounded them. Her forehead was furrowed in thought as she stepped forward, then back, then forward again, unsure of what move to make. She stared at him with determination, preparing to take action.

He waited impatiently, eager to see what this one would try. The young ones were raw and unskilled, generally, their best fights all against each other before they faced anyone genuinely strong. They weren't as polished as the older potentials, who used the same, tired old techniques against him every time and lost.

This one, in point of fact, was rushing toward him sloppily, and he shook his head reprovingly. "All wrong, love." He caught her midway and punched her hard in the gut, making her heave over, breathless.

"What?" she finally demanded, staring up at him in confusion.

"Come at me again," he instructed, "And this time, don't leave your left side open." He didn't particularly care for the Academy or its slayers, but he'd never seen the point of withholding training from them. After all, the greater the challenge, the more Spike enjoyed himself.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You're a lefty," she pointed out. "You're not going to attack me on my left side when I'm opposite you."

His eyebrows shot up. "Done your homework, have you?" Some of the older ones did research on him before they fought, but the young, overconfident slayers tended to assume that all vampires fought the same way. "You the studious type?" She didn't look it, gave off more of the impression of the bubbly blonde airhead than the bookish kind, but you never really knew with those.

He reconsidered. No, she reminded him of Darla- well, a younger, more pleasant Darla- more than anything. A hellcat, then.

She made a face. "God, no."

He leered at her. "Then you're one of Lydia's?" There were a few of those, the slayers who somehow found time in their schedules to follow his every battle and swoon over him. They didn't usually start so young, but this one did seem a bit overwhelmed by him already.

"Lydia's- Miss Chalmers?" she echoed. "The Spike groupies?" She scowled at him. "No!"

"Buffy! Spike!" Gunn said sharply, shaking his head. "This is a fight, not afternoon tea."

The potential blushed. "Sorry," she said sheepishly.

_Buffy?_ Spike mouthed incredulously. She gave him a look.

The potential named Buffy- by parents who must have hated her, he was sure- moved forward, faster than last time, but still not quickly enough to outmaneuver Spike. He swung at her and she ducked, a sudden whirl of energy, blocking his next blow smoothly and kicking outward as she did.

He leapt at her and she moved an arm to block him, lashing out violently and slamming into the side of his face.

He reeled backwards, more out of surprise that she'd gotten a hit in than pain from a blow as light as hers had been. _Darla. Definitely Darla._

"Very nice," he noted, grinning at her. "Still, though, not the best you could've done."

"I hit you, didn't I?" she pointed out, panting.

"You did," he acknowledged. "I can see why my get had such trouble with you."

"Get?" Her eyes widened with realization. "Webs is yours?"

He was in front of her in a flash, his fist slamming into her little upturned nose and returning to his side drenched in her blood. He licked at it, grinning at the taste. It wasn't quite slayer blood, but it was stronger than anything the watchers gave him. "Delicious."

She was back up again in a flash, her face screwed up in disgust. "Gross!" He eyed the mass of blood near the center of her face regretfully. She did have a cute nose. Hopefully, it wasn't too badly damaged that it wouldn't retain its shape.

He was vaguely startled when she hurtled at him again, but he dutifully blocked her blows anyway. His earlier impression had been correct; she _was_ a little hellcat, striking out at him with energy and force and speed that should have long ago escaped her. He got in a few more blows before they settled into a dance, their moves synchronized and their blows equal in strength. He knew that he wasn't fighting at full force, but it somehow didn't matter with this one, not when the grace that he'd suspected was just below the surface had finally emerged to meet his own.

Little Buffy was poetry in motion, and together they were a song, one he hadn't sung in far too long. This fight was perfect; they were suited to each other like so few potentials were to the vampires the fought. She was still weak and unskilled, but he suddenly longed for her to be slayer, to dance the dance that he'd lost eleven years before. Killing a Chosen Buffy would have been the most exhilarating moment of his life, he was sure, and this pale shadow of what she could become seemed as close to it as he'd ever get.

She hadn't landed a blow since the first one, and he hadn't tried again since he'd drawn blood. He had little interest in destroying her, beyond teaching her a lesson about fucking with Aurelians. He was going to draw out this fight, enjoy it while he could. After this, he wouldn't see this spitfire for years, most likely, until Gunn deemed her capable again.

He didn't doubt that she would be.

Gunn was watching their fight with amusement and a hint of concern at the way that they both seemed to be enjoying the fight. This was why they had these fights in such a public forum, Spike knew. They wanted to ensure that any bonds between vampires and potentials were carefully monitored before they became a problem. Of course, they weren't nearly as successful as they thought they were, in that regard.

He dodged a hit from his opponent and glanced up at the Japanese senior slayer he'd met on the game floor more than a few times. He hadn't been particularly impressed with her, not even after the Borba incident, but he'd thought better of her than the thralled minion she'd become under Angelus. And the watchers seemed unaware of the entire situation.

"Hey!" Buffy slammed her fist at him, and he caught it deftly and used her momentum to thrust her backwards. "I'm fighting here!"

"That you are, pet," he agreed, and let loose with a flurry of blows that she managed to deflect and dodge with skill, her very fighting style evolving with every move. She laughed in exhilaration suddenly, and he blinked at her in surprise.

She was loving this. Her face was beaded over with sweat and blood and her heart was pounding, but she was caught in the same rush as he, and she was loving every moment.

Just knowing that made it all even more fun.

And then, unexpectedly, Buffy slid to ground and scissored her legs around his own, dragging him down with her. Out of nowhere, she produced a stake, pointing it upward at him…and at the last moment she faltered, dropping the stake and punching him in the chest instead.

She hit corded muscle and he barely flinched, but he was quietly disturbed. She'd been close, closer than most had ever gotten. And although he would have been able to shove the stake aside as he dropped, she couldn't have known that.

A slayer unwilling to stake her prey was no challenge.

He narrowed his eyes and began the fight in earnest, determined to make an impression on her. She'd never get anywhere if she wasn't willing to kill- hell, just injure, in this case! He swung an arm at her, knocking her defense away with his other, and sent her spiraling backwards until she hit the wall. She kicked off of the wall and staggered forward, back at him, but she was unbalanced, unable to defend.

Spike glanced to Gunn, who stared back expressionlessly, silently giving him the approval to do what he thought was best. He shrugged and slammed Buffy with all his might, sending her careening backward and to the ground, crying out in pain.

"Buffy!" Gunn turned to the back of the room, where one of the older witches had been keeping the barrier up. "Take it down," he ordered, hurrying over to her prone body as the barrier fell.

Spike was already crouched beside the girl, frowning in concern. "She's unconscious," he told Gunn. "Two…no, three broken ribs and the nose."

Gunn nodded. "Gates. She's going to need to be taken to the hospital."

"Got it." His assistant hurried to the side room where they kept the stretchers to pull one out.

"Time to go," Collins ordered Spike, and he rose unsteadily, glancing back at Buffy being loaded onto the stretcher one last time before he followed the watcher back downstairs. She'd probably shy away from him for a while after this, and he found that the idea bothered him quite a bit. But at least when she returned, she'd be ready to kill.

* * *

The vampire and the watcher continued down the hallway, unaware of their shadow. Faith clutched her stake close and crept after them.

* * *

_So, was it worth the wait_?


	16. Chapter 16

"You hurt the girl?" the watcher asked the vampire. Faith was pretty sure that the vampire was the famed William the Bloody. Buffy must have been so pleased, what with her big-ass crush on him.

Wait…did they say _hurt_ the girl?

"Had to, didn't I?" the vampire said gruffly. "She wasn't trying hard enough. Had to scare the chit a little."

The unfairness of that statement hit Faith even before her concern for her friend. Buffy had been fighting in there for quite a while; so long, in fact, that Faith had had to peer in a few times to make sure that it was still Buffy on the game floor. And from what Faith had seen, Buffy had held her own.

And now this famed fighter was claiming that she wasn't giving it her all when they fought?

_I've beaten Buffy before, _she thought stubbornly. _She's not that good. She was just matched up better than I was._

"…Just broke a few ribs," William the Bloody was saying, and Faith forced herself to focus, to remember that Buffy was hurt and that she had a mission before she could see her friend. These two were her path to Kakistos and to killing the vampire who'd shamed her, and petty envy had no place there.

They reached a long corridor that was mostly empty, the only thing adorning the wall a long mirror. Faith waited just behind the corner, watching as the watcher paused, waiting for William the Bloody to pass, and pressed a finger against the wall. A little panel with a keypad popped out of the wall and swung to the right so that the keys were out of William the Bloody's line of sight and directly in the watcher's and Faith's.

The watcher punched in four numbers and Faith committed them to memory- 1, 6, 3, 0.

Immediately, the mirror in front of them glowed red, and a polished feminine voice said smoothly, "Commencing retinal scan."

"Override," the watcher said impatiently. "Damn technology," he muttered sourly.

"Overridden," the voice confirmed, and to Faith's surprise- _was it that easy?_- the mirror slid upward into the wall. The watcher and the vampire stepped into the opening in the wall and were gone in moments, the mirror sliding back down to hide the secret area's presence.

Faith chewed on her lip impatiently and sat down to wait for the watcher to return. There was no point in following him into that tiny room, not when he'd find her and send her away so quickly. Better to wait until he left. Well, if he left. She wasn't quite sure where the watchers in charge of the vampires disappeared to the rest of the time. They didn't have quarters with the other watchers, and a worrisome thought occurred to her- what if they lived below, with the vampires? She'd never make it to Kakistos if they patrolled the area.

She needn't have worried. He was back within only a few minutes, mumbling something about a stiff drink and stalking past her without even glancing her way.

She waited until he was gone before she finally mustered up her courage and moved to the mirror. It didn't _look_ like some sort of secret passageway into a vampire lair; but then, she'd never known anyone who'd gotten down to the basement before. Who knew what lurked down there, and the best way to find it?

She touched the glass experimentally, frowning at the way her reflection reached her actual finger. That meant that the mirror was fake, according to those magazines that Buffy sometimes left lying around and Faith would _never_ touch…well, unless she was really, really bored. So it could be anything behind that mirror.

It was time to find out. She probed the wall for a moment until she found the keypad, stepping back to punch in the code she'd memorized. A little bulb on the side of the keypad flashed green.

The red light went on. "Commencing retinal scan," the voice announced.

"Override," she tried, grimacing as the light scanned over her eyes.

"Overridden." The mirror slid away, and she found herself facing a small white room, no larger than five by five feet. There didn't appear to be any other way out once she'd gone in, and she wondered how she'd get to the vampires. A portal, perhaps? Another hidden door?

She stepped inside and the doors slid closed, the little white room sinking suddenly into the ground. She felt immediately stupid. An elevator. Of course.

It only took a few moments before the doors slid open again, and her jaw dropped at the magnificent sight before her. Maybe it had been the old mansion in which the school was housed, maybe it had been the magical methods that the teachers used rather than technology, but she'd always assumed that the vampires were housed in something old-fashioned, a cage or even rooms like the ones the students had. But this…this was nothing like that.

This was a complex, white and bare as the elevator walls and silent as a morgue. Faith couldn't see any movement at all, not in the wide, open area in the center of the complex, nor in any of the side rooms with clear glass walls or the opaque ones full of what looked like medical equipment when she peeked inside. The whole place had an almost futuristic feel to it, the technology that she could spot far beyond anything they had aboveground. Even the empty cages she reached as she continued walking had sophisticated-looking panels next to them, more advanced than the simple keypad that she'd used to get into the elevator. _How am I going to get to Kakistos if he's in one of these?_ she wondered despondently.

But he wasn't, and neither were any of the other vampires. And after reaching the end of the cells, she realized suddenly that there weren't _enough_ for all the vampires she'd seen, let alone the countless others that were supposed to be in the basement. They weren't being kept here at all, she noted, not without some relief.

She headed back to where she'd come from, searching the area around there again carefully. And sure enough, not three feet from where she'd been standing was a slight indentation in the wall just the right size for a door. This one had a keypad beside it, unconcealed. She tried 1, 6, 3, 0 again, and again, the keypad flashed green and the door slid open.

Faith gaped. _This_ was how she'd pictured the vampire prison.

The walls were made of stone, the whole place resembling a long, long cave rather than a simple basement. There were cages running along either side of the hall, each section also closed off with a shimmering barrier similar to the ones used on the game floor. And there were vampires everywhere, talking and fighting and- she flushed- fucking, one or two locked in each barred cage and most turning to stare at her with unmitigated curiosity, hunger, and lust as she began to walk past them. They leered and smirked and watched her move, and she couldn't help but feel uncomfortable. A bevy of teenage boys drooling over her, fine. Her opponents in battle doing the same, not as much.

And yet… she could deal with them the same way, couldn't she? She gritted her teeth and straightened, schooling her face into smug, relaxed features and fingering the stake she had slid into her waistband. Careful to breathe slowly to relax her pounding heart, she swaggered over to the closest vampire who didn't look like he was ready to jump her right then and there. "So, you new around here?"

He snorted. "Likewise."

"I'm looking for a vampire. Kakistos," she said, trying to sound sure of herself. Slowly, she was pulling herself back together, growing more confident as she spoke. She took another step forward, closer to the barrier, pulling the stake out in warning.

The vampire was unimpressed. "You'll want to drop that," he informed her. "Another step forward and that wood'll set off an alarm that'll have all your watchers down here in seconds."

She thought about challenging that, bringing the stake even closer out of sheer contrariness, but stopped herself. She couldn't risk the teachers finding out and stopping her.

She dropped the stake. "So. Kakistos."

The vampire considered. "He's from Antemorh. They're somewhere nearby, I don't know where exactly."

"Just after the Aurelians," another vampire offered.

Faith eyed them both suspiciously. "Why are you helping me?"

The first vampire shrugged. "Who are we to deny Kakistos a good meal?"

She glared at them and turned away, her heartbeat quickening at the thought of getting her revenge on Kakistos. Well, once she took the barrier down. And unlocked the cage. And how the hell was she going to be able to do any of that?

She couldn't. It was that simple. She'd come here intending to get some closure on what had happened the previous day, but it would be impossible with these barriers in place. "Dammit!" she raged suddenly, avoiding the vampire's knowing gaze. "Damn, shit, fuck!"

She spun on her heel, ready to leave before Kakistos saw her and knew that she'd failed again, when a familiar voice rose above the rowdy sounds of the vampires she'd already faced and froze her in her tracks. "You can't tell me that this one's no good. They're all good little slayers, ripe for the taking," Angelus drawled, and unbidden, Faith moved silently in his direction.

"She's not your type," William the Bloody was saying disgustedly. "Just a good fighter, that's all."

There was a distinctly feminine laugh. "Are you _protecting_ her?" the vampiress asked incredulously.

Another familiar voice spoke up. "She didn't seem like anything special to me. Not bad at the slaying, I guess."

"Well, you did a number on her," William the Bloody said grumpily as Faith rounded a corner and found herself facing a small row of cages, William the Bloody in the fourth. He was speaking to the vampire Buffy had fought for her exam, locked in the third cage. "She wouldn't even try to stake me. Very disappointing."

"She must burn!" wailed a female vampire from the cage on the other side of William the Bloody's. "Naughty little girls mustn't be left unpun-" She stopped suddenly, turning to face Faith, a slow smile spreading across her face. "What's this, then? Is faith upon us?"

"What are you babbling on about now, Dru?" the man beside her said impatiently, and Faith shuddered with excitement when she realized that he was Angelus.

"No, Angelus," the first vampiress who had spoken said from where she'd been sitting against the bars that separated her from Angelus. "Look."

Angelus turned. His eyes met hers again, and Faith shivered, the same emotions that had sprung up after the first time they'd locked gazes returning again. "Well, well, well," he murmured, the slightest hint of surprise in his smooth voice. "You must be Faith."

She took an unconscious step forward, then another, drawn by the knowing smile on his face. Before long, she'd passed the first cage in the row, then the second, then the third, until she was standing opposite William the Bloody's cage, just a few feet away from Angelus.

"Do you really have to do this?" the blond vampire complained, and Faith heard it as though he were far away, distant from the everything that was Angelus and his eyes on her.

"Shut up, Spike," his companion said warningly, and they both fell silent, leaning back onto the floor together to watch. Behind Angelus's burning gaze, the dark-eyed vampiress with him laughed softly, stretching her arms out toward Faith. Faith barely noticed, enveloped in a coldness that was also a warmth at the same time, a deep dependency on the tall, dark-haired vampire who beckoned to something deep within her and dazed her with his essence.

"I want to get to know you, Faith," Angelus murmured. "Don't you want to get to know me?"

"Yes," she breathed, her eyes shining. "I do."

"You need to take the barrier down," Angelus told her. "I need to be closer to you, to have you and possess you so you can be mine. What do you need?"

Faith put a hand against the barrier, the buzz against her palm soothing to the touch. "To touch you," she admitted. "To be…to be yours."

William the Bloody snorted. His companion smacked him upside the head. Faith ignored them both. "I need…"

"I know," Angelus said gently. "And you need to build the charm that can take the barrier down. You _will_ be mine, Faith."

"Please." Her eyes were welling up with tears and she needed to blink, but she couldn't tear her gaze from Angelus's.

"Then what will you do?"

She remembered that she needed to breathe. "Whatever I can," she promised.

He turned away first, and she let a breath out, suddenly panting as though she'd just finished a thirty-minute sparring session. She doubled over, unable to stand, and sank to the ground beside the barrier, struggling to regain her energy.

"Go, Faith," Angelus ordered her, and she got up and stumbled away, his voice echoing over and over again in her head. She barely made it out, remembering her wooden stake only when she accidentally kicked it across the basement, and collapsed in the hallway when she finally made it out of the elevator.

All she could remember was belonging, and the promise of it from Angelus, and the way he looked at her like she was worth it.

And there might have been something more to it, but she couldn't quite bring herself to care.


	17. Chapter 17

_Spike approached again, the look on his face a strange mix of pity and determination. She was moving toward him at an unsteady rate, and she knew that this one would be the big move, whoever shifted first. And it was him or her._

__

He slinked forward like liquid grace until he was standing before her, his arms raised to do battle. But this time, instead of fighting back, she tilted her head upward and pouted at him. His eyes were drawn to her lips and he leaned down to let his own touch hers…

_"Spike," she whispered, and woke with a start._ "Spike!"

"He's gone now, Buffy." Gunn was leaning over her bed, a look of compassion on his face. "The fight's over."

She should have been aching everywhere, but instead, she only felt the cramps that came from lying in bed for too long. "What happened to me?" But then it was coming back to her, the fight, the last strike that left her unconscious on the floor, some form of delirium while she was transported to the hospital, being patched up, and the monotony that followed. "How long have I been here?" she asked, frowning with concentration as she tried to recall.

"Two days," Gunn told her, sitting back down. "You were doped up on some magic healing after the doctors did their thing. It speeds up the mending, but you're pretty much shut off from the world. Looks like you're back with us."

"Yeah." She sat up, tugging the back of the hospital gown closed with distaste and gingerly putting a foot on the floor. The cool tile sent a shock back upward from the sole of her foot, and she recoiled instinctively.

Gunn held out a bag for her. "Faith brought these by earlier today."

"Thanks." She took the bag, scrunching up her nose at Faith's choices in wardrobe. Clearly, she'd been going through her own things instead of Buffy's, because leather? So not on the menu for a hospital stay.

_Hey, wait a minute!_ She reached out to feel her nose. "Does it look normal?" she wondered worriedly, ignoring Gunn's eyeroll. She liked her nose, funny shape and all, and if Spike had ruined it…well, she'd… _What? Stop having sexy dreams about him?_ a voice in her head that sounded a little too much like Faith for her liking taunted. _You can't hurt him. He was just toying with you._

Gunn was halfway to the door when she called his name. "Just giving you a little privacy to change," he offered, raising his eyebrows at her suddenly seriousness. "What's wrong?"

"When do I get to fight Spike again?"

He laughed. "Already? That was quick. Most potentials wait until they're out of the hospital before they start talking about revenge."

"It's not revenge, exactly." Buffy chose her words carefully, remembering how _right_ it had felt to fight the other vampire. "It just…it worked, you know? He made me fight better."

Gunn nodded. "You two did get along well. Then again, it's Spike, and he can turn anyone into a better fighter," he mused.

The red-hot bolt of jealousy that shot through Buffy at Gunn's words surprised even herself, and she tried desperately to shrug it off before Gunn would see. Luckily, he was already out the door, and she managed to tamp it down by the time she'd finished dressing.

"I can't approve it," Gunn said when he returned. "You're far too young and unskilled to have another match with Spike. But I do think that you've got a lot to gain from working with him, so if you can get Giles's approval…"

She grinned. "_Thank_ you." Giles was tough on them sometimes, but she knew for a fact that he had a weakness, one with whom she'd be spending most of the summer. He'd be putty in their hands.

He shook his head amusedly. "Should I tell Spike to expect you before the year is done?"

The image of the vampire sprung to her head, that body pressed against her own- _in battle! I'm not a groupie or anything!_- and she beamed. "Definitely."

Gunn checked his watch. "Listen, I'm going to tell the hospital that you're through here. Fill out some paperwork." He fumbled through his pocket to find his wallet. "There's a soda machine down the hall. You can get yourself something to drink while you wait."

She opened the wallet absentmindedly and had almost closed it again when she saw the picture. A girl smirked back at her, dark-skinned with wildly crimped hair and laughing eyes. A girl she'd seen not once, but two separate times on Regus.  
_  
"You're just like me," she murmured, and Buffy saw the two tiny circles on her neck. "Just like…"  
_  
"Who…who is this?" she asked shakily, her eyes glued on the image.

Gunn looked at her sharply. "My sister. Alonna." he took the wallet from her, handing her the bills and closing Alonna's picture off from her again.

"Is she also a watcher?" Why had she been in her dreams? What did it mean?

"She was a potential," Gunn said, and his set face warned Buffy not to ask any more questions.

* * *

She'd barely walked onto the floor when Faith came hurtling into the hallway and nearly crashed into her. The other girl stopped short, took a step back, and eyed her discerningly. "You look fine."

"Yeah, I'm feeling much better."

Faith ignored her, circling her pensively. "But it's better on me, " she said at last. She touched Buffy's chest area, shaking her head. "Your boobs are too small."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Hey, Buffy, I'm so sorry I missed your fight," she said in her best imitation of Faith's voice. "How are you feeling? Are you alright?" She paused to swat Faith's hand off her breast. "Thanks," she said in her normal voice. "I'm all better now. And I appreciate you lending me clothes, even though they're kind of slutty and you could have just gotten me my pair of leather pants if you wanted me to look like hospital Xena."

"No problem," Faith said absentmindedly, staring over Buffy's shoulder. Buffy turned with a sigh to follow her gaze and spotted Willow and Xander hurrying down the hallway towards them. Faith moved away. "I'll see you later."

"Faith!" She grabbed the other potential's hand, but Faith wrenched it from her grip easily and headed off.

"Nice to see you too, Faith!" Xander called after her, rolling his eyes. He turned back to Buffy. "How are you doing, Buff?"

"We came to visit you yesterday," Willow told her. "But then Miss Calendar and Laurie Drummond from the senior class started working on your healing, and they said you'd be unconscious for another day."

"You're lucky you got out when you did," Xander said, rolling his eyes. "Will was actually planning to bring study materials to the hospital today."

"Study?" Buffy wrinkled her brow in confusion. "Is it already exam time?"

"We've only got three weeks to finals!" Willow pointed out. "At this point in the studying, you should be rewriting and color-coding notes. Nancy Doyle's already organizing hers into a day-by-day schedule, you know."

"It's the crazy," Xander said in a stage whisper. "It gets into her head and tries to infect everyone around her."

Willow gave him a dirty look, and he clapped her on the shoulder. "But we love the crazy, right?"

* * *

Somehow, less than a week later, Willow had won the battle and Buffy found herself slipping into the watchers' lounge for a study session with Willow, Xander, Oz and Tara. "No Faith?" Willow asked, not sounding disappointed in the least bit.

"No Jesse?" Buffy retorted, putting down her textbook and sitting beside Tara.

Willow sighed, annoyed. "I don't know why he's being like this." She shook her head. "He's never around, except for when we're in class, and even then he's miles away."

"Maybe he has a girlfriend," Buffy suggested innocently.

Xander nearly choked on his drink. "_Jesse_? A girlfriend? No."

"You never know," Oz said musingly. "He does spend a lot of time with Kathy Newman."

Willow looked at him, horrified. "They're lab partners! They're doing a research experiment!"

"A research experiment or a _research experiment_?" Buffy wondered, waggling her eyebrows at Willow. God, it was fun being in the know!

Willow was looking more and more frazzled, and she finally jumped up and excused herself, claiming that she had to go to the bathroom. "She's going to do a locator spell on him," Oz noted.

Xander grinned. "That's our Willow, control freak extraordinaire."

While Willow was gone, they left their study materials on the floor and Xander went to get a box of donuts from his room. Buffy only had a half, since slayer snacking was frowned upon, but they still managed to finish the box.

"Maybe we should study," Tara suggested, eyeing the textbook on the floor. "Willow's going to be disappointed if we miss a day."

"She'll be fine," Oz said in his quiet voice, and Tara looked down, her cheeks reddening.

In a moment of female solidarity, Buffy grabbed her book from the floor and said loyally, "I agree. What's the harm in a little studying?"

Xander put up a hand. "I've got a few ideas."

But they started again anyway, and Buffy tried to focus on Tara's words with little success. Only when she started on the slayers of the twentieth century did Buffy perk up. "I know that one!"

"You do?"

"Sure. Xin Rong." She mispronounced it, but the watchers were too busy gaping at her to correct her. "What? I can know stuff! She was a slayer in 1900 during the Boxer Rebellion. Killed by-"

"William the Bloody," Tara finished, a smile playing at the edges of her lips.

Buffy smirked. "He prefers Spike, actually."

"That's right, I heard you fought him," Oz remarked. "He's the one who put you in the hospital?"

"Yeah." She probably shouldn't have felt so proud about that, but she couldn't seem to quash the smile. _Spike put me in the hospital. Why does that sound so appealing?_ She shook it off. Maybe it was knowing that Spike had been her "prince," maybe it was the way their fight had been so in sync, maybe it was the fact that he was damn sexy, but she was a little worried that she was beginning to like Spike. Like, _like_ him. Not healthy at all.

Xander gave her an odd look. "Okay, Buff, the idea is to hurt the vamps, not let them hurt you."

"I know." She rolled her eyes at him. "Spike's one of the best. It's a big deal to get to fight him, and…it's different than the other fights." _Stop fangirling, stop fangirling, stop fangirling…_

"She's a Spike groupie," Cordelia drawled from behind them. "And she's really in the wrong place."

"So are you," Xander pointed out. "Off you go, little potential."

"Oh, is she your _girlfriend_?" Cordy wrinkled her nose. "Or yours?" She switched her focus to Tara, who paled considerably. "I thought you and Faith were a thing, Buffy."

Buffy folded her arms, determined to stand her ground. She didn't care if Cordy was going to attack her, but calling Tara gay? Cordy was out of line. "Maybe I'm _Jesse_'s girlfriend," she said significantly.

Cordy froze in mid-retort, her mouth gaping open in response and her eyes suddenly very wide. "Maybe you are," she said finally.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. "And maybe you should head back to the slayers' lounge."

Cordelia narrowed her eyes at Buffy. "Maybe I should," she said grudgingly, and turned on her heel and stalked out.

"What just happened?" Xander asked, bewildered.

Buffy shrugged nonchalantly. "Mind control."


	18. Chapter 18

After all the time she'd spent studying with Willow, Buffy, and the others, it came as a disappointment to Tara when finals finally arrived and she had no excuse to spend time with them anymore. She'd gladly mastered the art of being overlooked by her peers years before, and it surprised her how much she'd enjoyed the time with people who she was beginning to think of as friends. It saddened her to realize that in only a few days, she'd be back in the States with her family for the summer, forced to reacquaint herself with loneliness.

She was happy that her last session of Ethan's research group before the summer would only include her and the girl she was beginning to think of not as just a crush, but also a good friend. It was rare that Willow and Tara were left alone to do their magic, but Ethan was supervising the last final exams for the junior potentials and Amy had begged off to go partying with Warren and his friends, so Ethan had handed them the magic lab keys and told them to have fun.

And now, they were alone in a room so soaked with the scent of dark magic that Tara instinctively moved closer to Willow's bright aura. "What are we going to do?" she wondered.

Willow made a face. "Manipulate the fights so that Kennedy doesn't make it? You know how senior slayers can be. And Rona said that she and Kennedy had both made it all the way to the last test, so…"

"They don't always pass on their first tries," Tara reminded her. "This is Eve's second, and some of the older students' third or fourth."

"Buffy made it on the first try."

"Buffy can fight circles around those three, remember?"

"I guess so." Willow said moodily. Her eyes lit on a shiny bauble on the shelf. "Hey! That's a Forhke'sak globe! If we combine it with Torla membrane and sage, we can use it for a confusion spell that would-"

"No," Tara said, struggling to sound firm. "No sabotaging the potentials."

Willow pouted. "You're no fun."

Tara winced and glanced around for something less volatile. "How about an invisibility spell?" she suggested, opening a spellbook she'd borrowed from Miss Calendar. "There are a few interesting ones in here, and they're all temporary."

Willow joined her in perusing the book. "Here's a good one. It'll shift us out of phase for a while, so we'll still be able to see each other, but no one else will be able to see us." The spell was a simple one, too, only an incantation and nothing more. "It'll only last a few minutes, though."

"Maybe we can try a longer one if we can pull this off." Tara underlined the incantation with her finger, memorizing it carefully. "Ready?"

"Ready." They joined hands to focus their energies and sank to the floor together, stringing together words and syllables in a flowing, lyrical tone that was closer to song than speech, and Tara was soon gasping for air as the intensity grew. It didn't matter how many times they'd done it before, or how strong the spell was. Every time she and Willow connected, they were both left breathless and sighing and moaning, the united strength exuding an energy beyond anything she'd ever reached alone.

"Alia toryana alia," Willow murmured, letting out a strangled gasp as the magic reached a crescendo.

"Seranya nierre sera," Tara managed, panting. They both let out moans as it swept _within_ them, stroking Tara in ways she'd never really felt before, and the part of her that was bonded with Willow could feel the same thing happening to her friend. The power of it had hypersensitized Willow's very essence and arousal, and Tara couldn't help but touch gentle magic to the other witch at the very peak of the moment, sending her spiraling to an edge only be reached through sheer power.

Willow screamed, writhing helplessly as the waves of magic and power and pleasure ran through her, pulling Tara down with her as she fell on her back to the ground and thrust upwards wildly. Tara landed on top of her as the last words of the incantation ran their course and gazed down at her silently, unwilling to speak and break the magic that had suddenly returned, moving only to brush tangled hair from Willow's face.

Then the door slammed open and they both started in shock and embarrassment.

"Huh. No one's here." Two of the senior watchers-in-training stepped into the room, and Tara reluctantly moved off of Willow.

"I'm telling you, there were some serious make-out sounds coming from this room," the male one said, frowning. "I could've sworn someone was getting laid, and _hard_." Tara flushed red, and Willow looked alarmed, pulling rapidly away from the other witch.

The girl gave him a sly smirk. "So basically, you're so horny that you're hearing sex everywhere?"

"Oh, I'll show you horny!" he grabbed her and she bounded off with a shriek. He followed, letting the door slam closed behind him to leave Willow and Tara alone in the silence.

"I guess it worked," Willow said shakily.

"I guess so." She wondered if Willow grasped what had just happened between them. Probably not. It was doubtful that the idea that she had done…_that_… with a girl would even cross her mind.

Then Willow said quickly, "I think I'll go surprise Oz," and Tara knew that she was just as lost as Tara was.

* * *

"There might not be records of it, but if you read her works carefully, you can tell that Emily Dickinson was totally versed in the arcane," Owen explained.

"You think so?" Buffy said blandly, glancing surreptitiously at her watch. Owen had been pretty decent to her over the years, and he was a hottie, so she'd readily agreed on a date. He was leaving for the summer with most of the other watchers tomorrow, anyway, so she hadn't thought that much would come of it, but now she was positive. They were far too different, and she barely understood a word from his mouth. Who was this Emily, anyway, and why didn't Owen date her instead if he was so into her?

"Buffy!" The bright voice cut right through her boredom and made her grin. Of course! Summer was nearly here, which meant…

"Anya!" she jumped up. "You're in town?"

"I'm always in town," Anya reminded her. "I do many normal, non-demon-type things that all non-demons do, like…roller-skate!" she finished, looking rather proud of herself.

Owen peered at her from around Buffy. "Who are you?" he wondered.

"Me?" Anya narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm nobody," she said warily. "Who're _you_?"

Buffy was left perplexed when Owen beamed and said eagerly, "Are you nobody, too? I love that one!"

"You are strange and incomprehensible," Anya informed him. "I'll see you around, Buffy."

"Wait!" She made a brief excuse to Owen and hurried after Giles's girlfriend. "Anya?"

"Hello, Buffy. Did I interrupt your copulation ritual?" Anya asked pleasantly.

"My- _No_, Anya!" she shuddered. "No copulation! He's just a date! And he isn't my type, anyway."

"That's right." Anya nodded knowingly. "You prefer girls. Like that Faith you spend time with."

"I don't-" She sighed, giving up. It was probably a lost cause, anyway. "Listen. Would you mind helping me out with something?"

"Do you want me to tell your date that you want to have sex?" Anya asked helpfully. "I'm quite good at that, you know."

"No, thanks." She rubbed the side of her head thoughtfully. "Um…I fought a master vampire a little while ago. Gunn says that I can fight him again if Giles okays it, so…?"

"Oh, I'll work on him for you," Anya said cheerily. "He's very pliable if you know when to ask, and I often do."

"Thanks," Buffy said gratefully. "I'd better get back to…" She waved vaguely toward Owen, who'd pulled out a book and was scribbling rapidly on one of the pages.

"You do that! I'm off to wreak vengeance for the scorned," Anya told her.

"What?"

Anya laughed nervously. "Did I say wreak vengeance? I meant…do taxes! Like every self-respecting human does!"

"Have fun!" Buffy called after her, heading back to the table with a spring in her step.

* * *

"See, the dynamic is all off," Jenny noted, frowning at the fabrics. "That thread in the center? It's supposed to be at the edges or the magic is skewed."

Giles ran a finger down the thread, feeling a shiver of magic as it connected. "You're right. I can't imagine why Ethan would specifically ask for the defective fabric." He considered. "Well, there is that whole 'lover of chaos' situation, I suppose."

"Or there's the whole darkness and evil thing," Jenny pointed out, raising an eyebrow.

Giles shook his head. "Ethan isn't evil. He's simply a bit…unconventional."

"He's teaching your students," Jenny said darkly. "You might want to keep that in mind before you start handing out the Eccentric Warlock Award."

"What are you implying?" Giles demanded, feeling a surge of irritation with the woman. He'd been planning on a quiet afternoon out with Anya before Jenny had decided that she was also running low on supplies and would join him on his trek to the magic shop. And as much as he liked the woman- and he truly did, in the sense that she irritated and intrigued him all at once- she wasn't Anya, and her time with him was interfering with time he could have spent with his lover. And now she was hurling half-formed slurs at his oldest friend. Granted, it was nothing new and the rivalry between the two styles of magic dated back to the early days of the Watchers Academy, but he had no patience for it today.

Jenny shook her head. "Nothing," she conceded, her expression still troubled. "But really, _feel_ it." She put her hand over his own, pressing it against the material, stroking the side of his palm with her thumb…

"Hello!" The voice was anything but friendly, and Giles winced as he yanked his hand away from Jenny's, evoking a puzzled stare from Jenny and a frosty one from Anya, who was now glaring at him balefully, her arms folded. "Mr. Giles, I would say 'what a surprise to see you here,' but it isn't. Is this your wife?"

"No, I'm-"

"Because you seem very close," Anya barreled on. "And clearly you're having sex, because why else would you be on a date together?" Her voice was rising with something nearing hysteria, and Giles took a step forward unconsciously. Anya stepped away from him. "So, Mrs. Giles, what's he like in-"

"_Enough_, Anya," Giles said sharply, and she froze, lip quivering, staring at him in forlorn disbelief. "This is Miss Calendar, one of the magic professors at the school. Not my wife, or my date, or anything of the sort."

Jenny nodded, her eyes moving between the two of them speculatively. "You know what?" she said finally. "I'll take care of Ethan's evil errands. Don't worry about it."

Anya was still staring at him with distrust and hurt, and he hurried to take her by the arm and escort her out of the shop, leaving Jenny watching them go thoughtfully.

As soon as they were out in the sun, she wrenched her arm from his. "Get_off_ of me!" she hissed at him. "You can't ply me with sexual appeal this time. I caught you with…with…" Her face crumbled again.

"Nobody," he reassured her immediately. "She's nobody. There's only you." He had the unfortunate tendency to be forgetful when it came to Anya's nonhuman nature and her line of work in particular, and he imagined that the idea that a man could be with another woman and not unfaithful eluded her completely. "I was simply running some errands. I love _you_." The passersby were staring, so he guided her toward the alley beside the shop for some privacy and took her into his arms. "I love you," he repeated, touching his lips to her trembling ones softly.

She kissed him back, at first tentatively, then with more gusto as she accepted his words. "I thought you'd found someone else," she whimpered as he attacked her throat with his lips and tongue. "Someone more human and age-appropriate, who you could marry and have fat children with."

"Hush, you." He buried his face in her hair, inhaling the scent of it deeply. "None of that matters to me, not as long as I have you. You're the only thing in this universe that matters to me."

"I love you," she sighed, her hands roving downwards under his pants until she was stroking his cock to a slow, lazy arousal. With Anya, rarely did an encounter end without at least a small measure of impropriety, and he was glad for it. But not today, not when she was insecure and concerned about the place that she (undoubtedly) held in his heart.

"Let's go home," he whispered. "We can go out tomorrow. Or the day after that."

She rested her arms around his and they vanished together from the street and reappeared in his bed an instant later. "Like this?" Her tone was still tentative as she divested him of his shirt, and he pulled her against him with a sigh.

"However you'd like," he murmured. He'd had sex with perhaps two dozen different women (and one not, but they never spoke of it again) over the course of his life, most liaisons occurring during his rebellious years as a teenager and few women at all memorable. Before Anya, sex had been a form of pleasure and, on rare occasions, of showing affection, but never the communication that it became with his beloved. It was a game now, an experiment, a conversation that brought forth nakedness not only of the body but of the soul (or rather, he corrected himself with a grimace, in Anya's case only the essence), and when it happened, it was the world. _She_was the world.

And though their very natures should have forced them apart, there was nothing in the universe that could ever bring him to surrender her.


	19. Chapter 19

"Way I see it, the vamp got lucky," Rona said, leaning back in her seat on the couch. "I was seconds away from staking it when it managed to smash my head and daze me for long enough to bite. I won't let it happen again."

Kennedy smirked. "The trick is to let the vamp think he'll win, then stake him when his guard is down. Know what I mean, Buffy?" The newest senior slayer was perched on the arm of the couch in their lounge, telling her rapt audience about her victorious final exam even as Rona and Eve groused about their losses. Buffy couldn't help but compare Kennedy's victory party with the one that she and Faith had been forced to have behind closed doors with a touch of envy. But then, she'd never been as well-liked by the other slayers as Kennedy was, and she doubted her newfound friendship with Willow was boosting her popularity.

At least now it was summer break, when dorm politics didn't matter for as long as Cordy and her posse were off traveling with Cordy's parents and the watchers had left for their respective homes, and even Buffy and Faith were sitting with the other slayers in an attempt to be social and fit in. Actually, that in itself was nothing short of a miracle, since Buffy had never known Faith to be willing to sit and prattle on with the other girls, even during the summer.

"Buffy beat hers out of skill, not luck," the latter said scornfully, and Buffy suddenly remembered why she was content to keep Faith far from the other girls. "She didn't need to trick the vampire into losing." The implicit _like you did_ was clear to Kennedy, who gave Faith a cold look and turned back to her friends to continue imparting the wisdom of the newly initiated. Faith shrugged carelessly and slouched back down in her armchair, flipping on the Gameboy she'd gotten as a birthday gift last year and focusing on it with fierce intensity.

Buffy turned back to the others with a sigh. Molly was watching her expectantly. "So what was it like, fighting William the Bloody?" she asked curiously.

"Is it true that your spine was shattered?" Rona put in. "I heard that Miss Calendar had to rebuild it from scratch!"

"I heard that your kidney was collapsed," Molly cocked her head, considering. "Or was it both?"

Buffy laughed. "I just broke a few ribs, guys. Nothing very interesting. Faith's done worse to me during sparring." Okay, so maybe the worst Faith had ever done was some bruising, but the other girls didn't have to know that. It wasn't like they'd cared to visit or ask her about it before now, and she was positive that she could have told them a story about Spike sucking half the blood from her body and they would have taken it all in with shocked faith.

And sure enough, her classmates were awestruck. "Wow," Annabelle breathed, her eyes wide. "You two are hardcore."

Faith snorted. Buffy kicked her absently.

"Hey, Buffy." Eve eyed her speculatively. "A bunch of us are going with Olivia to the beach today. You want to come?"

Olivia was one of the watchers on retainer, the ones who came to the school to act as chaperones while the teachers were all gone on summer break. She seemed to spend more time at the beach than in the school, which suited them all just fine most of the time. But today she had other plans. "Nah, Faith and I are going to go into town today. Unless if you want to go to the beach?" She turned to her roommate questioningly.

Faith didn't look up. "You go, B. I'll stay here."

"I'm not going if you aren't," Buffy insisted, setting her teeth. Really, what was _with_ Faith lately? She'd understood her friend's aloofness after the Kakistos debacle, but that was ages ago now and Buffy was getting sick of Faith's standoffishness. "What do you want to do?"

Faith's eyes were glued to her game. "Really, I don't care. I'll stay here."

The other slayers were watching their argument with fascination, and Buffy sighed. There was no need to get the entire grade present involved in this argument. Faith was keeping something from her, and she was going to find out what.

She declined Eve's invitation and waited until the six other slayers had left for the beach before she rounded on Faith. "Want to tell me what all this is about?"

"All what?" Faith moved to the now-unoccupied couch, flopping down on it and stretching out without letting her eyes leave the Gameboy screen.

"You know 'all what!'" Buffy aimed a cushion at Faith's hands with practiced precision, knocking the game from her hands.

"Hey!"

Buffy ignored her. "You've been avoiding me, making excuses to back out of our plans…I get it. You don't like Willow. But if you'd just _say something_, then I would drop Will in a second!" She reconsidered. "Well, not _drop_ drop her, cause we're getting along really well and she's pretty cool for a watcher, but I would have liked to spend at least some time studying with you, or going out to town, or hell, even sparring!" She thought back to their training with Gunn in recent weeks and the way Faith had avoided her during the one-on-one slayer matches. "Why are you mad at me?"

"I'm not _mad_," Faith muttered, retrieving the Gameboy and mumbling something incomprehensible under her breath.

"What?" Buffy leaned forward.

Faith sighed. "I'm just giving you space," she repeated, turning on the Gameboy again.

Buffy crossed the space between them in two steps, grabbing the Gameboy from Faith and perching at the foot of the couch. "Giving me space?" she repeated disbelievingly. "Did I ever tell you that I needed or wanted space? Did I ask you to stay away from me?"

Faith shrugged. "You don't need me being possessive and…"

"And?" Buffy demanded. Faith didn't respond. "Faith, you're my best friend!" she said furiously. "Did you think that I didn't notice that you're possessive? Have I ever, _ever_ cared about it?" Her voice softened as she saw the hopeless look on Faith's face. _She actually believes this_, she realized with a pang. Yes, Faith was possessive. But it hadn't mattered to Buffy before now, and she'd kind of liked it in an annoying sort of way. _At least before now, Faith made sure that I wouldn't have wasted afternoons with guys like Owen Thurman. And she's always known not to push me when I push back._ Buffy had never really seen it as a fault before now. "Why would you think I didn't want to hang out with you?"

Faith looked away. "It doesn't matter, okay? Just look at you! A month or two away from me and you've got a whole bunch of devoted friends. Willow and Tara and Xander and Oz, and now Eve's inviting you to the beach. Everyone likes you. And I've been holding you back all this time."

"You haven't been holding me back," Buffy said reproachfully. "Maybe you're right and people like me. Who cares? I don't _want_ to spend time with Eve and her friends. I want to spend time with you! But if you're going to do the whole poor-me self-pity thing, then maybe I'm better off on my own." She stood abruptly, fed up with Faith's whole attitude. They'd been best friends for five years, and if Faith honestly thought that she couldn't talk to Buffy about these things…well, Buffy could find better things to do with her time than fuss over Faith's insecurities. "I'm going downstairs to the training rooms," she announced. "I'm not going to beat Spike by hanging out on the beach. If you decide that you're through choosing what's best for me and you're ready to help me with something I actually want from you, you can come join me."

She stalked back to their shared room to grab her uniform jumpsuit and headed for the stairs, breathing a sigh of relief when she heard Faith's footsteps padding after her.

Yep, everything was going to be fine.

* * *

"I can't believe you've never been there." Laura McNally rolled her eyes. "I get it, you're all super-nerds. But what else do you do all summer if you've never been to the Bronze?"

"This _is_ the Hellmouth," Willow pointed out. "There are so many mystical phenomena that a good watcher could spend years observing. Two of our teachers are even staying in the area while they recruit." Miss Chalmers and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce had flown in with them on the Academy jet, which always made a trip to Sunnydale to ship the numerous watchers-in-training. The teachers would hunt down the potentials who were of age, and Mr. Giles and Mr. Rayne would retrieve them during the last bit of the summer. Xander didn't know exactly how they convinced something like ten parents each year to part with their children. He was pretty sure he didn't want to know.

But Sunnydale was generally potential-free, and their summers at home were fairly normal, save for the unofficial curfew and buddy systems that came with the Hellmouth territory. Xander liked to spend his time during the break wandering around Sunnydale, imagining how different things would be if he'd never been brought to the Academy, if he lived at home with his parents and went to Sunnydale High. As of yet, he'd never left Sunnydale at the end of the summer without a sigh of relief.

Jesse, of course, still seemed completely at home in Sunnydale. He had three older sisters of varying ages, all of whom babied him and cooed over their brother at the "freak school," and his parents humored his work while remaining firmly convinced that there was no such thing as demons. Sunnydale denial was still securely in place. At least they'd decided that Willow and Xander were still normal enough to stay with them over the summer. Xander had nowhere else to go. Sheila Rosenberg had announced that once Xander hit puberty he couldn't live with Willow for extended periods of time, and his other option was…well, not an option at all.

"Do you want to go to this Bronze place after…?" Willow asked carefully.

And if he had his way, he'd never stop in _that other place_. But his parents expected him to come visit when he came to town and before he left, so he tried to get it over with as quickly as possible.

He shrugged. "Yeah, I guess so. Jesse?"

The phone rang, and Jesse snatched it up. "Yeah, okay. Hello?" He made a face. "It's for you, Laura."

"Jeez, you're practically a girl these days," Laura muttered, taking the receiver and vanishing into the kitchen, her high-pitched giggle offsetting the awkward silence that followed.

"Let's just go," Xander muttered, and his friends followed him out in silence.

It had been so long since he'd last walked the path from Jesse's house to his own that he was surprised at how easily his feet led him there. Memories assailed him as he treaded the streets with Willow and Jesse in tow, some remembrances bringing smiles, some shudders. _Willow bringing over a doll when he broke his arm_…smile. _Breaking his arm when he'd been rebuked a little too harshly near the top of the stairs_…shudder. _Jesse waiting on his doorstep on their first day of school_…smile. _Jesse having to wait for him down the block from then on because Xander's father didn't like being awakened by the doorbell during a bad hangover_…shudder. His childhood had been a kaleidoscope of happy events made bitter by the people who'd given him life, and even now he hadn't fully broken free.

He took a deep breath when they turned onto his block and he caught sight of his father mowing the front lawn. The months since last summer had taken their toll on Tony Harris; he'd put on a few points and was now sporting a clearly receding forehead. The scowl, though…that was familiar. At least he seemed mostly sober this time.

"Hey, Dad." Willow and Jesse waited by the curb, watching warily as Xander crossed the lawn to stand opposite his father. "I'm back for the summer."

The lawnmower snapped off, and Tony Harris squinted at him. "Xander?"

"Yeah." He straightened his back. In a few years, if all went well and he had another growth spurt, he might be able to look his father squarely in the eye. "Hi."

Tony grunted a greeting. "Thought you weren't coming back when you didn't show up at Christmas."

"We went on the optional trip to Tibet," Xander reminded him. "I wrote you about it, remember?"

Tony laughed caustically. "I never read anything from that school of crazies you ran off to. Waste of time, s'far as I'm concerned."

"Oh." He chewed on his lower lip, uncomfortable. "Uh…is Mom home?"

Tony gave him a dirty look. "Don't bother her. She gets all whiny every time you show up here, and I don't need that right now. The boys are coming over to night for poker, and they don't need to hear about our useless retard of a son off in a cult because no one else would take him. It's bad enough that you come by at all."

Xander swallowed back the bile that rose to his throat. As visits went, this wasn't that bad. Really. "Right," he said finally. "I guess I'll call first next time."

He'd made it off their property and had turned away with Willow and Jesse when his father called after him, "Xander?" Xander stopped, waiting. "Don't bother." The lawnmower went back on, any response Xander might have made (he hadn't) drowned out by its buzzing.

Willow put a supportive hand on his shoulder. "You'll come back when he's at work," she said gently.

He shook his head. "Dad was right," he muttered. "I'm not coming back." He was done, done, _done_ with this.


	20. Chapter 20

"Hi!" she said brightly. "How are you?"

"W-Willow?" Tara's voice was tinny and bewildered from the other side of the phone line. "I-Is that you?"

"Of course it is! Would anyone else be calling from a Sunnydale area code?"

"I guess not," Tara said, still sounding perplexed. "Um…"

"We did exchange phone numbers, and I said I'd call you," Willow reminded her. "I missed you."

"I m-missed you, too," Tara said, almost shyly. "How is everything?"

"Not bad." It had been almost two weeks since they'd gotten home, and things were moving along smoothly. Willow was working on the optional research project during most of her free time, and Jesse and Xander seemed to be enjoying doing absolutely nothing, no matter how much she disapproved of it. Boys would be boys, it seemed. "Hey, I'm trying to weave together my own spell!" she remembered. "Like Ethan taught us in class! It's going to be a sating spell, so an attacking vamp will suddenly think he's really full and collapse or leave."

There was a short silence on the other line before Tara spoke again, her voice low and disapproving. "You're manipulating minds?"

"It's _vampires_, Tara. They're monsters anyway." She shouldn't have mentioned it to Tara, not when Tara had all those rigid beliefs about light and dark magic. Truthfully, she'd always admired that in Tara…so long as it didn't interfere with the magic Willow was trying. And Ethan said that Willow was the top student in the year, and that she had no limits, so why was she worrying what Tara thought? "You told me that you do it with your animals at home, too."

"I give them the sensation of tiredness, yes," Tara agreed. "But that's a physical feeling, not a thought, and they're not even sentient. There's no manipulation if there's no sentient mind to manipulate. Demons aren't animals."

"Is this about…?" Her voice trailed off as she remembered what Tara had told her last year, about how she'd come to the Academy believing that she was a demon. Only after Miss Calendar had mentioned that the white magic they were using one day wouldn't work for dark creatures did she begin to suspect otherwise, and she'd worked with both Giles and Miss Calendar until she finally believed it herself. "But you're not."

"It's not about that. It's about control, and power, and…never mind. Let's save it for school." Tara heaved a sigh. "It doesn't matter right now."

"Okay." There was an awkward silence, during which Willow vowed not to bring up her summer project in front of Tara again, not until Ethan had seen and approved it. "Um… so how's life at home?"

"F-fine." There was that stutter again, the one that Willow hadn't heard for years, and it worried her. "Everything's j-just like it was when I l-left."

"I know what you mean," Willow agreed. "One second, we're out there in England, adults or something like it, and then we get home and see our parents and we're back to those little eight-year-olds we used to be. I'm not even staying with my family and I'm already in the mode of 'tell me what to do' and 'ice cream for dinner' and 'boys are icky.'"

Tara laughed softly. "Boys are icky?"

Willow grinned. "Well, then I remember Oz and how sweet he is, how much I love him, and Oz? Oz!" Her mouth fell open as she stared at the living room door.

"Willow?" Tara asked curiously.

"I have to go," she said breathlessly, setting the phone down on its receiver and spinning around to greet her guest. "Oz!"

Oz smiled at her from the doorway, a knapsack slung over one shoulder and his guitar case under the other arm. "Hey, Will."

She nearly bowled him over with a hug. "How'd you get here? I mean, why? Well, I know why- or I hope I know why, and you said you might be visiting us this summer, but you're here! Oz!"

"My folks are staying in LA," Oz explained. "I hitched a ride here to see you." His lips tasted like chapstick, warm and comforting in their familiarity. "I missed you."

She melted into his embrace, sighing peacefully. "I love you, Oz."  
_  
Boys are icky, indeed. What was I thinking?  
_

* * *

"And this is the Bronze!" Xander announced to a politely interested Oz. "Where guys pick up Willow and she always says no, because if her boyfriend finds out, he's going to kick their asses."

"Except that one guy," Jesse corrected him.

"Which one?"

"The one from last week? The big one who beat you at pool?"

Xander winced. "That one doesn't count. I'm pretty sure that he wanted to dance with me."

"Sounds like he was a catch," Oz said, straight-faced.

Xander grinned, shaking his head. "Nah, he wasn't my type." He thought back to the school, to the girls he knew there. "Too blond."

"I thought you had a crush on Buffy?" Willow raised her eyebrows. "I had such high hopes for you two. We could double-date and everything."

Xander shrugged. "I wouldn't say no to Buffy…but then, I'm a teenage boy. I probably wouldn't say no to _Cordy_."

"Like you could get her," Jesse scoffed, but he was getting that uncomfortable look that always popped up when they talked about Cordelia. Jesse really hated her. Or something like that. "She's way out of your league."

"Well, there's always Cari and Colleen," Willow said, giving them both a dirty look. "Have fun with your slayer-obsession. Oz and I are going to dance."

"It's not like we like them because they're slayers," Xander said sulkily. "Our options are just really limited. It's either Faith or runs-with-scissors Sheila Martini."

Jesse gave him an odd look. "Faith?"

Thankfully, they were interrupted by a guy who hustled past them, nearly knocking Jesse over in the process. "Watch it!" Jesse called after him. The guy turned to sneer at them, his face changing suddenly as he flashed yellow eyes and a mangled brow in their direction in warning.

Xander stared. "Uh, Jesse?"

"Yeah?" Jesse sounded just as shaken.

"Was that a vampire?"

"Think so."

Ahead of them, the vampire was talking to an older girl dressed in a skimpy red dress, his hands on her waist as they swayed to the music. He motioned toward the back door and she nodded, moving with it in that direction.

"He's going to kill her," Xander noted, a cold chill running through him. "We've got to stop him."

He started toward the exit, but Jesse grabbed his arm warningly. "Xan, all we're going to do is become vamp food out there! We're not slayers!"

"Screw slayers." Xander's jaw tightened. "We're that girl's only chance right now, and I'm not just going to let her die because we're not good enough. Are you coming or not?"

He was barely aware of Jesse's protests, his eyes on the door and what awaited them behind it. It didn't matter here if he'd failed his finals, if his father and teachers and Faith all thought that he was useless. Giles said that he could fight in a team of watchers, that he was brave and capable enough to make a difference. And this was going to be his first real test.

There was a pile of stakes lying right next to the exit when he opened the door, odd in other towns but the norm in this one. In fact, the one he picked up was a garish red and had _I survived the Hellmouth™_ inscribed on it in an eerie script. He tested it against his finger to ensure that it was made of wood. You never knew with these things.

A muffled cry jerked him from his perusal of the stake, and he jolted, spun, and hurtled toward the vampire at top speed, surprising it enough that it dropped the girl and turned to stare at Xander in surprise. "Run!" Xander yelled, angling the stake and attempting to thrust it forward.

The vampire scowled, knocking it aside. "I hate the boys. They've got a miserable taste." Even so, it grabbed Xander by the neck of his t-shirt, shoving him against the wall roughly.

"Hey!" Jesse howled, running at them. "Get off of him!" The vampire snorted, lashing at Jesse with a foot. Jesse fell and scrambled back up, jumping onto the creature's back and stabbing over his shoulder at the heart with desperate thrusts. The vampire grunted with annoyance and shook him off.

Xander kicked frantically at the vampire's gut, shuddering as its teeth drew near his neck. Just a little closer, and…

And then the vampire was torn away from him and he fell to the ground in a heap, staring upwards in shocked relief. Had Jesse…?

But no, it was a tall girl with pale blond hair and cold blue eyes. "Little boys?" she said incredulously. "What, is there a shortage of pretty co-eds in town tonight?"

"Slayer," the vampire choked out, its eyes glittering.

She kicked at him in a classic martial arts pose, staking him midway and propelling herself through the scattering dust off the wall and back to a stiff stance opposite them. "New to Sunnydale?" She raised an eyebrow. "Don't hang out in the alleys. All kinds of nasty things here."

"You're the slayer?" Xander asked doubtfully, studying her with a frown. Come to think of it, she did look vaguely familiar, the way that some of the older watchers who'd graduated and came back to the Academy to visit did.

She stared at him. "Academy?"

"Yeah."

"I'm Narra." She turned to go. "Don't play hero, watchers. Not here, not ever."

She was gone before Xander could respond, and he stood unsteadily, exhilaration combining with raw fear to create a rush that made him dizzy with adrenaline. "We've _got_ to do that again."

* * *

"Hi, Giles!" Buffy said brightly, taking a seat next to him on the boardwalk bench.

"How are you?" Faith said with equal enthusiasm, plopping down on the other side. "Anya been treating you well?"

"She mention anything interesting?"

"About Buffy? And what Anya thinks is best for her training?"

Buffy mock-shuddered. "I'd hate to think that she'd be upset with you if you didn't heed her advice. She's sensitive about these things."

"_Very_ sensitive," Faith emphasized, shaking her head in false concern. "Don't you agree, Buffy?"

"Absolutely, Faith."

Giles rubbed his temples. "Buffy, you can't fight Spike again. Not at this level of your training."

"But he can be my training!" Buffy protested. "How better to learn to beat master vampires than to train with master vampires?"

Giles sighed. "You had to be hospitalized last time."

"And look at me now. I'm right as rain, as you British people say. Hey! You know who else is British?"

Faith rubbed her head thoughtfully. "Could it be that vampire you fought before the summer? I remember that fight. Gunn said that you were unbelievable, fighting better than you have in ages. What was the vampire's name? Something with an S…S…Sp…"

"Alright!" Giles shook his head. "I'll consider it."

"Thank you, Giles!" Buffy gave him a hug. It was a calculated gesture, since all the slayers knew that hugs left Giles flustering and vaguely pleased, and Faith watched with a smirk. She'd never hug Giles, of course. It wasn't her style. But Buffy used it to her advantage whenever it suited her, and sometimes just because. "You're the greatest!"

They descended the boardwalk back toward the surf together. "Thanks for backing me up."

Faith shrugged. "That's what I do, you know that."

"Yeah." She gave Faith a smile. "I'm going to fight him again," she said slowly, her smile widening. "Next time, we'll ask Anya to come-" Faith shaded her eyes to peer back at Giles. Anya was already sitting with him there, her head resting on his shoulder in a way that would have been sweet if Giles hadn't been so damn old. "-And Giles will have to agree."

"I'm sure."

Buffy stopped to look at her. "Listen, I know you don't want to talk about it…but would you want to fight Kakistos?"

"Who? Oh, yeah. Him." Faith hadn't given him much thought, not after she'd met Angelus. She had more important things to consider. Like the barrier spell, and how she was going to take it down.

She'd found out quickly enough that the barrier had been instituted a few years before, the work of, of all people, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. Lucky for her, that meant that all the research material was readily available. Unfortunately, she was no researcher, and at this point, she was seriously considering somehow conning Willow into helping her take it down. Much as she hated to admit it, it was time to accept that she couldn't do it alone.

"Nah, I don't care about him," she said flippantly. She had a far more important vampire to worry about now, anyway.

_Look at us,_ she mused, _Two slayers with two separate goals concerning two separate vampires._ It did sound a bit morbid. But at least her goal wasn't dangerous like Buffy's…

No, she just wanted to get closer to Angelus. No fighting or injuries necessary.


	21. Chapter 21

**I'm going to try to post the next chapter on Friday, and then I think we'll go back to the Wednesday/Saturday posting schedule.**

* * *

The sun was high in the sky and most of the slayers had gone to the beach for the day to soak in its rays and laze around, enjoying the last few weeks before vacation ended. Even Buffy had gone with them, reluctant to leave Faith alone but determined still to persuade Giles to let her fight William the Bloody again. Faith had been privately relieved. Since they'd worked things out in the early summer, they'd been nearly inseparable. Buffy had taken her words to heart, apparently, and decided to counter Faith's worry about being clingy by clinging to Faith on every occasion, which left no time for her…special project.

_Take that, Xander,_ she thought spitefully. _Turns out that not everyone is as repulsed by my presence as you are. _Then she pushed the thought from her mind forcefully. She didn't need to think about Xander Harris. She didn't _want_ to think about Xander Harris.

It hadn't been difficult to break into one of the magic labs, not when the key was hanging freely on the wall of Giles's office. Giles never bothered locking it during the day when he went out to lunch or the beach, and it had been easy to slip past the airhead of a summer secretary and grab the right key before she'd been spotted and asked to leave. It turned out that she'd instead snagged the skeleton key that opened every office in the building. She'd have to return it soon, before Giles realized that it was gone, but first she planned to use it to collect all the off-limits supplies she might need. She wasn't going to _waste_ something so precious, after all.

Her first stop was one of Mr. Rayne's advanced labs, and it stunk to high heaven. She wrinkled her nose in distaste. Were those_fumes_ rising up from behind one of the counters? A greenish mist had settled near the back of the room, and there was a swirling portal wide open behind Mr. Rayne's desk.

"Gross," she said disgustedly, turning to leave, but before she could go, a strange belching sound came from somewhere within the portal and Mr. Rayne emerged.

He didn't seem at all surprised to see her there. "Random potential! What can I do for you?" he asked jovially.

"I…uh…Nigel sent me here for…Giles said I could…" She fumbled for excuses until her brain finally provided her with one. "I'm working on a research project!" she said triumphantly.

Mr. Rayne smirked. "A potential working on a research project? Unlikely."

"I swear!" Faith thought quickly, settling on a plan. It was a bit daring, but if she could pull it off, she might be done before Buffy came home, maybe even with time to go back down to the basement. Besides, she was _Faith_. She thrived on daring. "I'm working on spells for those invisible walls. You know, like force fields? I want to learn how to put one up for when I spar, so I can get used to the amount of space I have on the game floor. And how to take it down, too, of course." She could only hope that it was the same spell for both kinds of barriers.

Ethan raised his eyes. "How very… zealous of you," he said silkily, vaguely waving his hand at the classroom around him. Immediately, the smell vanished, the mist scattered into nothingness, and the portal shrank into itself and disappeared, returning the room to the pristine state that all the other classrooms displayed. "You're not strong or focused enough to do the spell, of course." He sat down, suddenly all business, and motioned for her to take a seat as well. She pulled up one of the stools to sit opposite him.

The desk he used was actually more of a long counter, tall and packed with strange-smelling herbs and oddly colored animal organs, and Faith was suddenly glad that she'd chosen to sit further rather than closer. Back when they'd taken magic classes, Buffy had always opted for Miss Calendar's class and Faith had readily agreed with her, and only now did she suddenly understand her aversion to Mr. Rayne. Something about him reminded her of that sleazy pimp who used to hang out outside her house when she was younger, the one who would only leave when her mother would finally agree to go with him. It was in the way they both looked at everyone else as if each person was worth a certain amount, and they were calculating exactly how much. And it was unnerving.

"You'll need to build a charm that can take the barrier down first," Mr. Rayne said, and she forced herself to shift her attentions back to him. An odd little smile was playing at the corners of his mouth as he regarded her. "That's certainly the simpler spell. The other one will take some time."

"I'll just start with the first one, then," she said quickly, amazing herself with her recklessness.

Mr. Rayne laughed, not unpleasantly. "Let's do them both at once, shall we? What goes down must come back up, after all." He considered for a moment. "But if all you're interested in is the actual charm, not the process, I'd be delighted to take care of that for you. It should only be a few minutes."

"Thanks." She grinned. This was working out perfectly. In fact- did she dare say it?- everything was going even better than she'd expected.

* * *

Jesse and Oz had gone with one of the McNally girls to get dinner, so Willow and Xander were watching a movie while they waited for them, not without a bit of trepidation. Laura McNally, as part of their education in all things American, had insisted that they eat Doublemeat burgers twice a week, every week, and Willow was starting to become nauseous just thinking about them. "Think they'll still be a while?"

"Hope not," Xander said, his eyes glued to the screen. "I'm starving. And those burgers are great." He shifted, grimacing as he rubbed his leg. "Ow."

"What is it?"

"A vamp kicked me in the shin last night." He rolled up his pant leg to show her the discoloration, large and yellow with a hint of brown. "Those things are _strong_."

"You were stalking vampires at the Bronze again, weren't you?" She folded her arms disapprovingly. "Narra told you to stop. And something like five different times." Privately, she was pretty sure that Xander's newfound recklessness was slowing the slayer down, but she didn't say anything. Not after the first night he'd done it, when he'd hurled accusations at her, claiming that she never supported him and wanted him to be good for nothing. She'd stayed quiet and blamed his father for his sudden change in attitude.

Xander nodded. "Last night, she said that she was going to call Giles and complain if I kept interfering on her turf. It's okay, though. I have a plan."

"A plan."

He grinned. "She patrols at the Bronze at most nights when we're there. So tonight, Jesse and I are going to the cemeteries instead."

"You're _what_?" She took a deep breath, ready to start a battle she knew would only end in badness but she had to fight regardless. "Xander, you're not a slayer! You don't have the strength, you don't have the training, and you definitely don't have the sacred duty! And if you keep doing this, you're going to get killed! It's one thing when you're in the Bronze with a slayer. But wandering a cemetery all alone is just _asking_ to become vamp food, and by dragging Jesse along, you're risking his life, too. You have to stop this!" A tinny sound came from somewhere in the kitchen, and she bolted in that direction before Xander had the chance to respond. "Oh, look- the phone's ringing! I'd better get it."

"Wait, Willow!" Xander called after her, but she was already diving for the long-distance phone line that the McNally family usually used just to call Jesse. "Hello?"

"Okay, Jesse, you win. I'm not coming back to Sunnydale this summer, and we won't scare off all your nerd-friends." The voice was one straight from her nightmares, and she staggered backwards, stunned. "Hello?" Cordelia sounded annoyed. "Jesse?"

She slammed the phone down on the receiver, gaping at it with a sort of quiet horror. "X-Xander?"

He came up behind her, still tense and angry. "You can't just say that and then walk away! You didn't even…Willow?" He softened at the look on her face. "What's wrong?"

"My god," she breathed, shuddering. "Jesse is… Cordy… she…"

"What?"

The door to the house opened, and Jesse was calling out, "We brought you apple pie this time, Will. Oz made a good case for your health," as he dumped the bags of fast food on the table. He frowned at Willow's white-faced expression. "Will? What's going on?"

She raised a trembling finger to point at him furiously. "You…you and _Cordelia_!" she finally let out, quivering with rage. "How could you?"

Jesse paled. "Look, Will, it's not like that. We're just- we're just messing around. Kind of. Nothing more."

Xander blinked, finally comprehending. "You and Cordelia? Nice!" He high-fived Jesse in a moment of male solidarity, and Willow let out a whooshing gasp and glared at them both.

"She's horrible to us!" she exploded. "She looks down on watchers and she picks on you all the time-"

Jesse shrugged uncomfortably. "I pick on her, too. It's just what we do."

"No!" Willow's head was spinning, and she couldn't think. _Not Cordy. Anyone but Cordy…_ She cast around in her mind for something to do, some way to change it…a spell, maybe? There must be a de-lusting spell for her purposes. And Jesse wouldn't care after she'd done the spell. In fact, he'd probably thank her. "It's not! You can't be with her…anyone else would be better! Anyone! Oh, god…"

She didn't notice Oz's comforting hand on her shoulder, guiding her upstairs, nor did she notice Xander calling after her and Jesse reaching for the phone. All she could do was imagine Jesse and Cordy…_messing around_. She felt sick to her stomach, more nauseous than she'd ever been from a Doublemeat burger, and she broke away from Oz and lurched into the bathroom to vomit up everything she'd eaten that day. Gentle hands pulled her hair back away from her face and passed her a glass of water when she was done. She rinsed, spat, and flushed, finally turning to face Oz tearfully. "How could he do that? With _her_?"

"You can't always choose who you fall for," Oz pointed out calmly.

"But…but _Cordy_!"

Oz raised an eyebrow. "Hey, she's dating down, remember? She must really like him."

She laughed shakily. Yes, she probably did. It was Cordy, after all, and as reprehensible as the idea was to Willow, Cordy and Jesse probably had something real. Cordy didn't slum for just anyone, after all.

It didn't mean she'd forgive Jesse for the betrayal, though. "You know, he's always had a crush on her," she confided. "He never said anything, but I could tell. He'd chase her around the playground and pull her hair when we were little, and he'd make pictures back in kindergarten with him being the dad and Cordy being the mom. We used to tease him about that, even after we all ended up at the Academy." She closed her eyes, leaning against Oz's hard chest tiredly. "I wonder how long this has been going on?"

_Too long, I'm sure._ But maybe she shouldn't try a spell just yet, not if there were feelings involved. _That kind of spell is too dark, anyway, _a voice in her head that sounded a bit too much like Tara for her liking reminded her. She quashed it. Tara had a very different style than she did in magic, and it didn't make either one better or worse. It just _was_.

"I don't know. You can try asking Jesse when the urge to curse away his Cordy-lust fades."

She smiled against his shoulder. "You know me too well." He didn't pester her or set limits for her. He was simply Oz, and he accepted her at her best and worst.

He ran his fingers through her hair. "Do you want me to get your apple pie?"

She shrugged. "The guys'll be done soon, and then they're leaving. I can just-" She stopped, her eyes widening. "Oh, no. They've decided to go to the cemetery tonight!" she remembered. "They're going to get themselves killed!"

Oz frowned. "What do you mean?"

Willow sighed. "Xander's decided to stay out of the slayer's way by haunting the cemetery instead. He's got that whole crazy thing going on, and he won't listen to me." She turned to stare at him, her eyes pleading. "Would you try to talk him out of it? Maybe if it's one of the guys…"

"Sure." He dropped a quick kiss on her lips and headed downstairs, leaving her sitting against the radiator in the bathroom and wondering what had happened to her best friends.

* * *

"So. You and Cordelia, huh? What happened to not dating slayers?" Xander couldn't help but feel a little betrayed. They were guys, and the guy code dictated that they brag about their conquests to each other, no matter how twisted they might be.

Jesse glanced warily at Oz, who was walking on Xander's other side and was clearly on Team Willow for this one. He'd even tried to talk them out of their vampire hunt, and when they'd proved immobile, decided to join them instead for safety in numbers. "It just happened. Well, not just, but…"

"How long?" Xander demanded.

Jesse shifted uncomfortably. "Okay, so remember winter break last year? You and Willow went to Tibet, and I decided to stay in school? So Cordy and I bumped into each other in the hallway one night, and we were arguing, and then…we weren't."

"Oh. Wow. So, uh…how far have you…?"

Jesse grinned a purely masculine smile. "Third base."

Xander whistled, feeling a twinge of jealousy at that. He'd never gotten past the early groping, and he'd thought that he was the more popular one with the girls. Jesse had always been…more distant about these things, harassing Cordy and joking about the girls, but not as willing to date them. "Impressive."

Jesse shot him a challenging glance. "And I know that you have a thing for Cordy, but she's mine. So just…back off, okay?"

Xander shrugged. "I'm not really into Cordelia. She's hot and all, but can you say high maintenance? You can have her."

Jesse scowled at him. "Shut up."

Xander frowned, remembering something. "Hey! That night when you got drunk, you were making out with Faith! And then you asked her out! Weren't you with Cordy then?"

Jesse shook his head. "We were fighting. We break up a lot, but it doesn't last long."

Xander glared. "So what were you going to do when you and Cordelia hooked up again? Drop Faith like a hot potato?"

"I guess." Jesse gave him a curious look. "Why do you care?"

"I don't," he mumbled. "It's just…it's not fair." He didn't care. He really didn't. Faith was a pain in the ass, abrasive and annoying and she knew just how to push his buttons. Maybe she was kind of sweet in a tough kind of way, and when she got all vulnerable he sort of wanted to… No. That was a manly macho thing, not a caring thing. That was all. His eyes narrowed as he thought back to the vitriol she'd spewed at him when they'd been away together, and he suppressed any fond thoughts he felt toward Faith.

Jesse shrugged, turning to Oz for support. "You don't think it's unfair, do you?"

Oz nodded. "Seems that way. Vampire."

"I'm not a…oh." There was a hand sticking out of the ground ahead of them, and as they watched, a fledgling vampiress tore out of the ground with a roar and charged toward them.

Jesse ducked and Oz dodged, but Xander stood his ground, readying the stake. He nearly made it two steps forward before the vampire barreled into him, shoving him aside and grabbing Oz, trying to sink her teeth into his neck. And the moment she stilled, Xander drove the stake between her ribs, gunning for the heart.

She didn't dust.

"You missed!" Jesse snapped, passing him another stake and stabbing at her again.

The vampire frowned. "Hey, what are you doing? I'm trying to eat here!" She blinked at the stake in her chest. "Holy crap, am I dead?"

Finally, Xander stabbed the stake into her heart and she dusted with a vaguely puzzled look on her face.

"We did it!" Jesse said, grinning.

"Yeah." He smiled back, brushing some dust off of the stake. "We did it."

_Take that, Faith,_ he thought spitefully. Let her call him incompetent. He was sure _she'd_ never staked a vampire before. 


	22. Chapter 22

Next chapter will be up Wednesday!

* * *

"Hey, Faith. Got any fun trinkets today?" This time, Angelus was lounging against the side of his cage, watching indulgently as the wild-eyed vampiress who shared his cage spun gleefully in circles. Spike was singing to her, sotto voce, and she danced along, laughing with a wild, untamed joy.

For a moment, Faith wondered if she'd bitten off more than she could chew, venturing back to the vampire den so soon after the first time. But then Angelus turned his eyes to her, and all the doubts fell away. He was _it_, and that was all that mattered. "I've, um…I've got the charm." She waved it vaguely at him, noticing out of the corner of her vision the way that the brunette woman fell silent and her eyes fixed onto the shiny item.

"Impressive," Angelus breathed, wrapping a hand around one bar of his cage. "Do you know how to activate it?"

"She's a slayer," a cold voice remarked from Spike's cage. His female companion swaggered forward, eyeing her critically. "They don't know anything."

"For once, I'd have to agree with Darla," Spike drawled, sliding down to the floor of his cage to observe the scene with interest. "These sad little excuses for potentials are a waste of your time. Now _I_ say we work on the watchers, maybe the staff, yeah? There's an obsessed little bint with designs on yours truly, shouldn't take long to-"

"Shut it, Spike," Angelus ordered, and Darla gave him a sharp kick in the shin. He blew her a kiss, irreverent.

Faith glared at the younger male vampire. "Scoff all you like, but Buffy's going to kick your ass tomorrow. See how you like your 'sad little excuses' then."

"Buffy?" he repeated, frowning. "The new one again? So soon?"

"Yeah, again so soon." She crossed her arms, tucking the charm between them. "Did you think you could scare off a slayer by breaking a few ribs? Buffy's tougher than that."

A slight smirk curled up the corners of his mouth and didn't abate until Darla kicked him again. "Get to the back of the cage," she ordered. "Angelus wants some privacy." She turned to face the Aurelians gathered in the other cages in the area, who were watching them with acute interest. "All of you!" she snapped, and to Faith's amazement, they all vanished behind their respective walls obediently, even the crazy brunette who shared a cell with Angelus. Spike rolled his eyes and followed suit, until only Darla and Angelus were watching Faith with hungry eyes.

"You, too, Darla," Angelus said mildly, and she stood suddenly, glaring at him with very cold eyes.

"_You_ don't give _me_ orders," she said haughtily. Behind her, Spike peered out from behind their partition, smirking at Angelus. Angelus ignored him, turning a significant gaze at Darla until she gave a huffy little sigh and departed, leaving Faith alone with Angelus.

"Take down the barrier, Faith," Angelus said smoothly, and she closed her hand tightly around the charm and murmured the word Ethan had taught her. "_Cado_."

And then there was nothing left between them but the wall of the cage.

"Come closer, Faith," Angelus breathed, and her legs led her toward him until she was inches from his tall frame, only the cage between them. The metal bars were distantly spaced, making easy enough for Angelus to reach through with one hand to stroke the side of her cheek. She gazed into his eyes, swaying a bit, clutching at the bars so she wouldn't lose her balance.

Angelus grinned. "Well, hello there." The hand cupping her cheek moved downward in an interminable crawl until he was stroking her neck sensuously in a slow, massaging motion that made her arch her neck toward him and let out a little whimper. His hands were soft, much more so than she'd expected, and his very touch set her aflame. This was…yes, this was _right_, and she was right, and everything was perfect…

A single finger continued his descent down her body, and she let out a quiet little sigh when he reached her breasts. "I…I shouldn't."

The finger moved back up to rest against her lips. "I'm taking care of you," Angelus assured her, and then his hand closed around one of her breasts again, squeezing gently and tweaking the nipple through her uniform. "This won't do," he said, frowning. "You're all covered up." A second hand sneaked up her tight shirt, bunching it up over her breasts as she shook with unrestrained neediness.

"Please…" she choked out. Her skin was cold in the chilly underground air, goosebumps sprouting up over her stomach and breasts, every touch to their overly sensitized skin making her shudder and moan. He pinched a nipple and twisted, and she cried out in a mixture of agony and pleasure. "_Ohgod!_"

"Has no one done this for you before?" Angelus wondered, one hand still playing with her breasts while the other moved lower. She shook at his touch and he grinned, splaying a hand over her stomach possessively. "Has no one touched you…here?" His hand moved lower, stretching an edge of her dark pants down until it pulled the rest with it and she stood before him in near nakedness, only a pair of dark and lacy panties between them. He rubbed his hand against her mound and she couldn't help but writhe closer to it, fighting for the friction with all her might.

"No one," she admitted, letting out a groan as he rubbed lower, making her start violently. "Oh, _fuck_, please!"

"Please what?" his eyes were twinkling with amusement and something that might have been mockery but it didn't matter anymore. A finger dipped underneath her panties and then pulled out so quickly that she barely felt the stimulation, and she wound her legs around two of the bars of the cage, far enough apart that Angelus could just reach in and end the agony of this _need_ she couldn't dare to fight. "Do you want me to fuck you with my fingers?"

She nodded vigorously, reaching down almost automatically to relieve the tension that Angelus was letting simmer. She'd done this before, hell, even Buffy had done it once or twice when she thought Faith was sleeping and why was she thinking about Buffy now, anyway? But never like this. She'd never been so turned on in her life, so desperate for _something_before, and she was weeping but it somehow seemed natural.

"Well," Angelus seemed to ponder, batting her fingers away before she could alleviate her need. "Why not?" Unexpectedly, his fingers shoved her panties aside and plunged into her so quickly that it came as a surprise and she shrieked out her pleasure in one long, piercing note. She was sopping wet and there was little resistance as Angelus pumped his fingers in and out of her, moaning a little himself. "So tight…" he was growling. "Haven't had a virgin since…" His other hand moved down to join the first, reaching for her clit and rubbing a rhythm on it in time with her cries, up and down and up and down and upanddown-

He built her to a peak and let her freefall down, riding the rush of pleasure as it washed over her and encompassed her being. Her body was writhing against the bars and Angelus, wound so tightly to both that they were but one entity and she was never, ever going to let go, to give this up…

Her legs lost control as the rising waves finally fell, and she tripped to the ground, stumbling backward until her arms slid down the bars, too, and she was sitting on her bare ass on the ground in front of Angelus, mostly naked and still a little in shock. "I just… that was…" That had been an _orgasm_, a thousand times more than those little bursts of shock that she'd been able to bring herself on her own. "I…"

Angelus smiled winningly. "Come back soon, Faith," he purred, and she could only nod dumbly, unable to articulate. The spell to raise the barrier again took the last of her mental faculties, and she didn't even remember to pull down her shirt until she was halfway into the elevator.

She sagged against the side of it, breathing hard.

* * *

"You look different today," Buffy noted from the mirror. She was tying her hair back into a neat ponytail, swinging it from side to side to admire its bounciness.

"D-Different?" Faith's reflection raised her eyebrows at Buffy. "What do you mean?"

Buffy shrugged, pulling the hair from the ponytail and brushing it out into long, smooth waves. "I don't know. You've been…" _Carrying yourself taller. A little more confident. A little more makeup, a little wider smile._ "…Different."

"Okay, B. Whatever you say." She patted Buffy on the shoulder in a way that would have been almost patronizing if not for the wide grin on her face. "I'm gonna go take a quick shower. Wait for me?"

Buffy nodded absently, frowning when Faith didn't even try to feel her up once before leaving. What had gotten into her?

She shrugged it off and focused on her hair again. By the time she'd finally decided on leaving her hair shiny and loose and bouncing just below her shoulders, Faith was out of the shower and ready to leave. "Aren't you supposed to be fighting today?" Faith asked as they exited their room and headed toward the main wing of the Academy, where the training rooms were situated.

"Yep. So?" So maybe slayers were encouraged to wear their hair up in ponytails and tight braids when they fought. And maybe the red jumpsuit she'd chosen was a bit more Faith's style than hers. It didn't mean anything. She was going to be businesslike, strong, and memorable. She was going to kick Spike's ass in ways that no slayer had before, and she was going to enjoy every moment of it. And he might be a hottie, but thoughts like that were for off the game floor, not during battle.

Not even when said vampire was staring at her from where he was standing with Gunn and Giles when she entered the room, looking mildly surprised- _and was that a hint of admiration? _She shook off the thought, flashing him a daring smirk and turning away abruptly to speak to Faith. "Look who's here."

"Spike? I noticed," Faith said, rolling her eyes.

"How do you know how he looks? You missed my first fight with him," Buffy said curiously.

For a moment, Faith looked trapped, then she shook it off carelessly. "Buffy, he's _Spike_. I've heard enough about those cheekbones to recognize him from a mile away."

"Mm, they _are_ nice cheekbones," Buffy said wistfully. "You could grate cheese on those things. And you'd think they'd be gross since they're so bony, but he makes them so sexy that-" She glanced at Spike again, and stopped abruptly, her eyes widening in horror as she caught sight of him leering unashamedly at her. "Faith? How good is vampire hearing?"

_Good enough_, he mouthed at her, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

She mouthed back a particular epithet that she'd never actually dared to say aloud, delighting in the way he gaped at her in surprise. She raised her eyebrows. He curled his tongue in front of his teeth in a way that made her momentarily stop breathing.

"Buffy? We're ready for you." Buffy jumped, tearing her eyes from Spike's to stare at Giles, wide-eyed, as he stood over her. His eyes narrowed in concern. "Is everything alright?"

She nodded vigorously, cursing Spike for setting her off balance before they'd even begun to fight. "Yup. I'm totally ready girl. Never been more ready in my life." She hurried to the game floor, her cheeks very red.

Giles had finally allowed her to fight Spike one more time on several conditions, most significant of which would be that he would observe the match. If he was "sufficiently persuaded that it would be conducive to her growth as a potential," she'd be permitted to fight him more regularly, but Giles had already warned her that it was very rare that a slayer was allowed to fight the same master vampire more often than once or twice a year. It just wasn't done.

So she'd have to make quite an impression to make a habit of this. And she was determined to be given the chance to fight Spike again; not just because she kinda-sorta had a crush on him, but because they _fit_. Because when she fought him, she felt like a slayer, a real warrior who knew what she was doing and why. Maybe it was just because he was a master vampire, but there was something that had _worked_ when they'd sparred, and she wasn't planning on giving it up just yet.

"H'lo, pet," he said, and she blinked at him blankly. "Back so soon?"

She wrinkled her nose at him. "Shouldn't you be bowing to the crowd or something like last time?"

He glanced at the bleachers. "It's just you and Faith today, love. Looks like even these sexy cheekbones couldn't bring any ripe young potentials home from the beach."

"You're an ass," she said conversationally, whipping around to aim a roundhouse kick at him and hoping that he hadn't seen her flush.

"But a sexy ass, wouldn't you say?" he countered, catching her kick and sending her flying.

She rolled her eyes. "You'd like to think so, I'm sure."

He pouted mockingly. "You mean you don't agree?"

"It's sexy when I'm kicking it," she decided, sending her foot toward said ass and sending Spike flying. He landed neatly crouched on the ground and spun to face her again, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he eagerly awaited her next attack.

"It is sexy," he agreed, grinning. "_Love_ the red on you, by the by. You look positively edible." He gave her a filthy look that made her gasp until she remembered herself and delivered a flurry of punches at his stomach. He caught every one, catching her wrist during her last punch and twisting so viciously that she cried out in pain. "Like every vampire's wet dream," he smirked.

"Spike," Gunn called warningly from just outside the game floor. "Stop corrupting the girl."

"She's got to get used to it, yeah? Never know what you might come up against in the field." His eyes were glittering with mirth, and Buffy choked back the pain and headed back at him again. He caught her wrist again, his face suddenly serious. "You're never going to get at me if you keep leaving your left side open."

_Damn_. She'd actually worked on that after he'd brought it up last time, had honed that skill against Faith and Finn during the whole summer, and she was already falling back to old habits. Gritting her teeth in annoyance, she wrenched her hand from his and tried again, cursing when he caught it once more.

"You're too tense," Spike told her, shaking his head. "Relax. Enjoy the dance, and your body will react as you've trained it to."

"This is supposed to be a dance?" But she knew what he meant. Their moves were a synchrony of power and grace when she didn't put too much thought into it, when she let her body do the speaking.

"Don't tell me, your card is full. I've heard _that_ one a thousand times before." He rolled his eyes, tossing a few easy-to-block blows at her.

She frowned as she deflected the last of them. "Huh?"

He sighed, tilting his head to the ceiling as though begging for patience from a higher power. "Never mind. Close your eyes."

"What? No!"

Spike tilted his head at her questioningly. "Don't you do this with Charlie Boy?"

"Charlie Bo- Gunn?" She bit back a grin at the moniker. "Yeah." They often practiced blindfolded, learning to sharpen and trust their other senses against the enemy. "But that's different! He's not out for my blood!"

He stuck out his lower lip in a pout. "What, you don't trust me?"

"You're the one who said I looked edible," Buffy retorted, but she closed her eyes anyway.

"Open them whenever you need to," Spike said, and that was enough of a goad for her to decide that she could fight the entire battle with him blind.

And it wasn't as difficult as she'd thought that it would be. Yes, she missed a few blows at first, and Spike got her on her chin so hard that she saw stars, but as she let her body do the dancing, she found that she thought less and less about what she was doing. She stopped instigating and started reacting, molding her technique to Spike's instead of forcing him to follow her clumsy and still-developing style. And they were finally dancing, moving together as one and so naturally that when she opened her eyes at last, it was out of glee instead of desperation.

Spike was beaming back at her, his eyes shining with pride and delight as she finally found her rhythm, moving to the tune that only the two of them knew. It was right, and it was real, and she thought that she'd never stop, not if she could help it.

One particularly smooth strike on her part sent him stumbling backwards until he was pinned against the wall, and she pounced, pressing up against him and tapping his heart. "Gotcha," she whispered, her lips inches from his.

But he didn't take her cue, frowning disapprovingly instead. "Where's your stake?"

It was still tucked in her waistband. She hadn't intended on using it, not against Spike. He was too _human_ for her to hurt like that. Reluctantly, she reached for it, faltering when the decisive moment came. "Do I have to?"

He glowered at her. "I gave you this opening for a reason, little potential! Now are you going to stake me or not?"

"Excuse me?" she repeated disbelievingly. "You _gave_ me this opening? I don't think so!" She drew the stake back again, scowling at him.

He smirked. "You've forgotten one major detail, Buffy." His name rolled off her tongue like velvet, and she shivered at the sound. "Maybe it wouldn't matter if you were the slayer, but right now-" He lifted his foot and slammed it on her instep, and she cried out in agony. "-You're so very weak!" he finished triumphantly, and in the next moment, she was the one backed against the barrier, Spike's head bowed against her shoulder as his teeth descended to her neck.

He planted a soft kiss on the curve of her neck as Gunn called out his victory, then raised his head to smile sadly at her. "You need to learn to stake the vampires, kitten," he murmured, backing away to follow an impatient special ops watcher to the door. She watched him go and touched her neck, the feel of his lips lingering as a phantom sensation on her skin.

"Can you stand?" Gunn was asking, and her vision was suddenly blurry as adrenaline faded and she remembered her injuries. Spike hadn't broken any bones, she thought, but her foot felt mangled and her chin was bloody. She staggered forward, feeling a sharp pain in her ribs. Okay, so maybe he'd broken one or two bones…

"'m fine," she mumbled, and promptly passed out on the floor.

* * *

She awakened in Mr. Rayne's office, her ribs knitting and the pain in her foot gone. Giles and Gunn were arguing heatedly in the corner.

"-too dangerous, did you see what they were doing? I would expect that from Faith, not Buffy! And definitely not that soon!"

"Charles." Giles's voice was quiet but determined. "I'm aware that your natural predilection in this situation is to be wary. But Buffy is not-" his voice lowered suddenly to murmur something Buffy couldn't quite catch- "and Spike is not-" and again, Buffy strained but failed to hear what Giles had said. "Buffy is certainly not the first student to show that level of fascination with Spike, and Spike is…well, he's always prone to acting like that. The truth is that Buffy fought well today, better perhaps than most of her senior slayers. That level of compatibility is rare, to say the least, and it would be a bloody shame to squander it."

Gunn sounded glum. "I don't like it."

"I do," Buffy announced, sitting up abruptly. "Ooh…head rush." She lay back down. "Am I okay?"

"Ethan began the healing process, and it shouldn't take much longer for you to heal. Your injuries are far less severe than last time. In fact, you most likely collapsed from exhaustion. You were fighting Spike for nearly three hours straight," Giles informed her, helping her sit up again.

"Three hours?" Buffy considered. "Huh."

Gunn scowled. Giles smiled indulgently.

She looked expectantly at him. "So when do I fight Spike again?"


	23. Chapter 23

"Buffy!" Willow was immediately hushed by the packed front row of the bleachers. She climbed up to the third one, tossing the slayers below an apologetic glance, and took a seat next to her friend. "How are you?"

Buffy tore her eyes away from the game floor where Rona was getting crushed by a blond vampire to give Willow a quick smile. "Hi, Will. When did you get back?" She turned back to the fight, intent.

"A few hours ago. I just finished unpacking. Hey, when did Rona make slayer?" The vampire on the game floor had Rona's hands pinned behind her back and was telling her something in a low voice. Rona shook her head, trying to pull away, but the vampire held her firm.

"Earlier this week." Buffy scowled down at the vampire, who had let Rona go and was easily dodging her blows, laughing. "Eve, too. And Ken made it at the very beginning of the summer. This is Rona's first fight."

For an instant, the vampire turned away from his opponent to stare directly at Willow and Buffy, and Willow flinched. Buffy didn't budge, just narrowed her eyes and glared balefully at him. He smirked and waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her in response.

"Uh…friend of yours?" Willow asked curiously. There was an air of familiarity between Buffy and the vampire that made her wonder. "Who is that?"

"Spike." Buffy rolled his eyes. "He's just toying with her. He actually thinks that this is a show or something."

As if on cue, Spike spun in a circle to kick Rona to the ground, giving a sweeping bow to his rapt audience. The row of slayers and watchers sitting at the front of the bleachers all squealed. Buffy did not look pleased.

"Did you get to fight him again like you wanted?"

"Twice. Giles is going to let me train almost exclusively against him." Buffy grinned suddenly. "Whenever I should be fighting an advanced vampire, I get to fight Spike. Last time, I didn't even break any bones. Well, I sprained my ankle," she amended. "But nothing that needed more than a few minutes of healing."

"Well, that's good, I guess?" Willow said uncertainly. Spike had Rona pinned against the wall and was lowering fangs to her neck.

"He barely injured her," Buffy noted, clearly bothered, as Gunn called out Spike's victory.

"Maybe you were just tougher to beat," Willow said loyally. After all, there was no way that Rona was a better fighter than Buffy, even if Buffy did end up in the hospital after her first bout with William the Bloody. "Or maybe breaking bones is a sign of affection for vampires."

"You think so?" There was a smile playing at Buffy's lips as she gazed down at Spike, who now had his arm around Gunn's shoulder and was telling him something animatedly. Gunn gestured at their audience significantly, and Spike heaved a sigh and let go, returning to the door of the training room, where a special ops watcher awaited him. "Well…maybe."

"He doesn't seem like the typical vampire. More…down to earth." The other ones that Willow had observed had seemed focused on the fight and resentful of their captors, not all buddy-buddy with Gunn and strolling away like they ran the school.

"Yeah, he trains with Gunn sometimes, and he has more matches than any other master. I think he's kind of the Academy's token vampire." Spike exited the room, and Buffy finally turned to face Willow. "So how was your vacation?"

"Nice." It had been, sort of. She'd been able to spend time with Oz, which was always a plus, even if things were still awkward with Jesse and Xander was still dragging the boys out to hunt vampires every night. Something terrible was going to happen if they kept that up, she just knew it. "How about you?"

"Peaceful. Well, when Spike wasn't beating me to a bloody pulp," Buffy added, and they both laughed. "Ready for school on Monday?"

"Ready and willing," Willow informed her. "I even have study group with Ethan tonight." A thought occurred to her. "Hey, have you seen Tara? Is she back yet?"

Buffy nodded. "I saw her in town this morning. She'll probably be at dinner by now." They headed for the dining hall amidst the throng of students, chattering animatedly about their summers.

Someone bumped into Willow, and she nearly lost her balance, crashing into Buffy before she caught herself. "Watch where you're going!" she snapped, turning to see who'd hurt her.

"You watch it," said a snide voice. It was Eve, standing with Kennedy and a shaken-looking Rona, their arms folded. "Please don't tell me that you two are still hanging out together. Buffy, you were actually getting kind of cool."

Buffy sighed. "Much as I'd love to trade useless taunts about your own choice in friends with you-" Her eyes lingered on Kennedy, who looked unimpressed. "-we've got places to go, so we'll have to continue this some other time." She turned away. "Come on, Will."

"Don't walk away from me!" Eve grabbed Buffy's arm, and in pure reflexive movement, Buffy swung her fist directly into Eve's face.

Eve swung back, aiming for Buffy's face, and the crowd of slayers and watchers around them backed up to watch, the watchers with disdain, the slayers with interest. Willow sighed. "Buffy, can we just-"

"Not now." The two girls circled each other, sizing their opponents up. Eve went for Buffy's gut, and Buffy countered with a kick that sent Eve staggering backward.

Willow sighed._ Slayers…they always go for the violence._ But she did note with satisfaction that Buffy definitely had the upper hand in the fight. Eve's left eye was already starting to swell, but Buffy seemed fine, bouncing backward on the balls of her feet and alternately dodging and deflecting Eve's blows. Willow frowned. Buffy's moves seemed…familiar, almost.

"She fights like Spike," Rona murmured from beside her, intent on the fight.

_Ah._

"What is this?" Miss Calendar pushed through the crowd of students, her face disapproving and annoyed. "What do you two think you're doing?"

They started guiltily, dropping their fighting stances. Miss Calendar shook her head. "With me, both of you. Now." She glanced around, looking for the others involved, and the crowd dissipated like clockwork. "Kennedy." Miss Calendar's eyes fixed onto Eve's friend. "And Rona, of course."

"And Willow!" Rona pointed out, scowling.

"Willow?" Miss Calendar rounded on her disbelievingly. "_You_ were involved in this fight?"

Willow shrank backward in shame.

"She had nothing to do with it," Buffy argued. "This was just Eve and me. And we were…sparring. That's all."

"Outside of the training rooms?" Miss Calendar said skeptically. She sighed. "Alright, fine. Willow, Kennedy, Rona, go. Buffy, Eve, you're with me."

* * *

"It wasn't that bad," Buffy told Willow when she'd finally joined her in the dining hall. "Giles was more concerned about the fact that I'm friends with a watcher than anything else."

"Oh, the horror!" Xander mock-shuddered from beside them. "A slayer and a watcher fraternizing… What's next? A great romance between a slayer and a vampire?"

"Ours is a forbidden love," Willow said primly. Buffy looped an arm around her shoulder and pressed her cheek to Willow's, and they grinned at Xander together.

"Speaking of Buffy's forbidden love affairs, where's Faith?" Xander wondered, glancing around the room. Faith was sitting alone in one of the back corners, picking at her food and not looking up.

Buffy sighed. "Not again!"

"What?"

She shrugged. "Faith's under the impression that she's stifling me or something. And now she avoids me whenever I'm being social with anyone else."

For an instant, Willow thought she saw a guilty look pass over Xander's face. Then it was gone, and he was standing up. "So we'll bring the party to her, then."

"Xander!" Willow had _liked_ the idea of Faith staying away. But then she saw Buffy's face light up at his suggestion and felt ashamed. "Yeah, okay." She balanced her tray carefully and followed her friends to where Faith was sitting morosely, biting at a stalk of celery with little interest.

"Faith! How've you been?" Xander set his tray down opposite Faith's, his voice a little too loud to be genuinely cheerful.

Faith glared at the table. "What are you doing here, Harris?"

"Eating dinner. Though I do think that calling it 'dinner' is a bit of an exaggeration. 'Toxic waste' is a little more accurate."

For a moment, a smile crossed over Faith's face before she caught it and scowled. "Whatever."

Buffy took the seat next to Faith. "Guess who Rona fought."

"Guess who _Buffy_ fought," Xander smirked. "I'll give you a hint. It wasn't a vampire, and it wasn't in class."

Faith looked up with interest. "Buffy got in a fight?"

"She gave Eve a black eye," Willow said. She was going to be nice. Faith was Buffy's friend, so no matter how much she disliked the other girl, she was going to be nice. Really.

"Nice!" Faith high-fived Buffy, her mood improving visibly. "Tell me you started it, too."

"Started what?" a voice asked from behind them, and Willow tensed. Oh. Him.

"Slayer fight," Xander glanced from their new arrival to Willow and back. "And apparently, our sweet, friendly Buffy did. It's always the ones you'd never expect," he added sagely, and Buffy kicked him under the table playfully, nicking Willow with her shoe as her foot passed her.

Jesse shifted from foot to foot uncomfortably. "Oh. Uh…can I sit here?" He nodded toward the last free chair at the head of the table, his eyes seeking Willow's pleadingly.

She thought about turning him down, ignoring him the way that he had ignored what she wanted in when it came to Cordelia, but not when _Faith_ was there, watching the exchange curiously. "Go ahead." She turned to her food, feeling all their eyes on her.

"Finish unpacking yet?" Jesse asked her, and she shrugged noncommittally.

He tried again. "What did you do today?"

"Nothing." She refused to look at him.

He gritted his teeth. "Okay, Will. This is getting ridiculous."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Excuse me?"

Jesse stood up. "I get it. You don't like Cordy. But what gives you the right to be _angry_with me because I do? I'll date whoever the hell I want to date, and you can either get over it or end this friendship right now! I'm not going to apologize for a decision that has nothing to do with you to begin with!" he hissed, and turned on his heel and stormed away.

Willow stared fixedly at her food, her cheeks burning.

* * *

It came as a relief later that day when she could finally escape the tension of her friends and classmates and join Ethan in his lab to work on magic. Ethan was suitably impressed by the progress she'd made on her summer project. "This spell is nearly complete," he noted, inspecting her work. "Flawless calculations, as always."

Willow beamed at the praise. "What's next?"

Ethan tucked the spell into his pocket. "We'll be beginning a far more intense level of magic this year. Your career exams, which will divide you into your area of expertise, are at the end of this year, and I fully expect you to be working with magic, of course. I'd like you and Amy to be at graduate level before the tests even begin."

Willow frowned. "What about Tara?"

Ethan considered her with dark, calculating eyes. "I don't believe that she'd be…compatible…with this level of training. Her style is far too rigid to grow properly. However," he said thoughtfully. "The two of you together have a tremendous gift. It may even be worth it to keep Tara with us because of the effect she has on you." He waved a hand at her. "Go get her. Tell her that she's back in the group."

Willow nodded and bounded off obediently.

Tara was seated cross-legged on the floor of her room when Willow entered, her eyes closed and her lips moving to speak voiceless words. White energy flowed from within her and filled the whole room with a sort of peace that touched Willow and made her shiver with its feel.

Unwilling to speak and break the spell, she stood in the doorway and watched her friend weave her magic. Tara was…she was beautiful, pure, _right_, and in that moment, Willow had never wanted to be closer to her more. Involuntarily, Willow took a step forward, transfixed by the vision that was so perfectly _Tara_… the calm expression, the face tilted backward as though drinking in the magic around her, the curve of her cheekbones as her full, glossy lips moved but never made a sound…

She didn't realize how close she was until she was on the ground opposite Tara in the same position, touching her hands to Tara's and feeling a jolt that made them both cry out and shudder, inundated suddenly with magic so overwhelming that Willow shook with pleasure. God, how she'd missed this…

Tara's eyes opened slowly, lazily, as she sensed the change in the balance, and she smiled softly at Willow. "That's some hello," she murmured, her thumbs rubbing against Willow's palms as she lowered the spell.

Willow took in the last of the magic, sighing in sorrow when it faded, leaving behind a dark little hole within her. "Hi," she whispered, her hands closing around Tara's. "How was your summer?"

"I missed you," Tara admitted, rising reluctantly, her hands still in Willow's.

"I missed you, too. I haven't…I haven't felt this kind of magic in a long time." Willow dropped her hands from Tara's, taking a deep breath in an attempt to recapture the peace she'd finally felt when she'd joined with Tara. "Um…Ethan wants you to come back to the study group."

Tara gave her a sad smile. "Because of you."

"Yeah." She looked down, suddenly embarrassed. Tara had a mastery of skilled magic that Willow could never hope to reach, and it felt wrong for her to be overlooked because Ethan didn't like her style. "He says we have a gift. Together."

Tara exhaled slowly, her expression thoughtful. "Then I guess I'll go." She looked shyly at Willow through long eyelashes. "For you." 


	24. Chapter 24

"These results are not being logged as grades," Mr. Wyndham-Pryce reminded them as he passed out the results to their emotional proficiency exams. "They are only for yourself, to analyze which levels you've mastered and which you need to continue to work on. If you've landed in the red area, please see me after class and we'll review your improvement plan."

In the seat in front of Xander, Marcie Ross opened her results sheet and Xander caught sight of a black dot in the glaring red area of assertiveness levels. Jesse opened his own and showed Xander the fully green scores with a smirk. "I've finally caught up to you," he noted laughingly. Tara was grinning shyly beside Marcie as she showed Willow her results, her own assertiveness raised in the grey area between green and red nearly to the green level, and Willow oohed even as she opened hers to show Tara the all-green scores proudly.

Emotional equanimity exams were the one thing that came easily to Xander. They'd been required to take one at the beginning and end of each year so that they could review and work on the traits most necessary to watchers, and Xander had been scoring in the green every year since he was twelve. Even Willow toed the line sometimes, and she'd admitted to him once that she envied his high scores. He might not have been an intellectual or a magic-user, but he had the watcher constitution down pat, and he-

-Was in the red. "What?" he said aloud, staring at the offending little dot disbelievingly.

"Xan?" Jesse asked, frowning.

"Nothing," he said quickly, folding his results sheet closed. "Just in awe of myself, as always."

Jesse rolled his eyes and shook his head, and Willow watched him enviously. From behind him, Xander could feel Oz's eyes boring a hole into his back, but his taciturn friend remained thankfully silent.

He slid the sheet open again, unwilling to accept the words on the page and the dot labeled "caution." _The watcher is displaying an overly reckless disposition and must exercise greater caution and common sense._

"Common sense?" he muttered disbelievingly. "I've got common sense coming out of my ears!"

There must have been some mistake. There had to have been. So when they were dismissed, he didn't go to speak with Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. Instead, he turned to Jesse and Oz and asked, "You want to go hunting tonight?"

"Can't." Oz nodded at Mr. Wyndham-Pryce's desk. "I failed the conscientiousness level." Willow leaned against him fondly.

Jesse checked his watch. "Sunset's in three hours. I've got to meet-" He paused, glancing around at their classmates cautiously. "-Someone first."

"Oh. Okay." Jesse had become a little more present now that they knew about Cordelia, but he was just as likely to skip out on them to spend time with her instead. "Will? How about we go into town and enjoy some well-earned ice cream?"

She shook her head regretfully. "Sorry, Xan, but Tara and I are going to do some magic now. Maybe later? You don't need to go hunting tonight," she said hopefully.

Xander rolled his eyes at her and she tossed him a disapproving look, then turned and headed off, her hand sliding into Tara's as the other girl followed. He sighed. "Guess it's just me, then."

He wandered the halls aimlessly, struggling not to think of the results of his test. It didn't matter. It was wrong. There was no way that he could have failed at his one strength. There _wasn't_.

He turned a corner and crashed into Faith as she crashed into him, and they fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs. "Ouch!" he yelped, Faith's fist suddenly in his gut. "What did you do that for?"

She retracted her fist, frowning vaguely at him. "Oh. You."

There was a pause, and Xander suddenly noted how glassy her eyes were. "Are you okay?"

"What? Um. Yeah. Fine." But she still seemed dazed, and Xander extracted himself from her limbs carefully, helping her stand again and keeping an arm wrapped loosely around her waist to support her. She swayed unsteadily. "What are you doing?"

"Helping you back to your room," he decided, gazing at her worriedly. "What happened to you?"

She blinked at him uncomprehendingly. "Huh?"

"Was it magic?" Nothing else came to mind that could incapacitate someone like Faith so easily.

She giggled suddenly, a most un-Faith-like sound. "A kind of magic, sure." She staggered forward, letting him guide her into the elevator.

He hit the button for the fifth floor and held her steady. "Faith, who did this to you?"

She melted against him, her head lolling onto his shoulder, and with one hand, she reached over and squeezed him in a _very_private place, smiling sleepily. He yelped, jumping away from her as if he'd been burned. "_Faith!_" Her hand crept toward his crotch again, but he caught it quickly, holding her wrists firmly in place and far from any…parts…that seemed particularly enticing to her.

Thankfully, the hall was empty and Faith was easy to lift, so he tossed her over his shoulder and quickly carried her to her room. "Buffy? Please tell me you're here!"

She wasn't, and he bit back a curse and laid Faith down on her bed carefully. She stared up at him woozily. "I'm staying with you until Buffy gets back," he told her firmly. "I won't leave you alone like this."

She laced her fingers with his, moving them back and forth with a sort of dazed fascination. Slowly, she dipped them lower until they were touching the waistband of her pants. She hooked a thumb onto it, yanking the pants down before he could pull away.

"Faith, I really don't think you know what you're doing." Xander gulped, unable to tear his eyes away from smoothly tanned thighs and wiry dark hair that covered her…_oh_. She tugged his hand to her sex, rubbing his knuckles against the sticky wetness pooled there, and he took in a sharp breath. "F-Faith," he said shakily. "You're not…"

It took all he had to pry her hand away from his and cover her with a blanket hastily, angling his body and his suddenly _very_ alert cock away from her. She let out a little moan of protest, reaching for him again, and he sank to the floor next to her bed as far from her sex as he could get and held her hand in his own tightly, mentally swearing vengeance on whoever had enchanted her like this.

"Oh, god," she said after some time, letting his hand go and sitting up abruptly. "Oh, _fuck_."

"Faith?" He looked at her hopefully. The shine was back in her now-horrified eyes, and she turned her head away from him immediately. "Are you okay now?"

"Yeah." She exhaled heavily. "I can't believe I…you…"

"Nothing happened," he rushed to assure her. "I didn't do anything."

She nodded slowly. "I know. I remember."

He chewed on his lip. "Listen, we can report this to Giles anonymously, but he does have to know." Xander had his suspicions about what had happened to her. He'd heard about date-rape drugs and the like after a long study period with Warren Mears, who claimed to be building a machine that would make him irresistible to the opposite sex. And Jonathan wasn't quite as skeezy as Warren, but Tucker and his brother were equally proficient in magic and, knowing them, would do anything for Warren. But to target Faith, they must have had a death wish, and he was going to fill that particular need in their lives the instant that he was sure that Faith was all right. He clenched his fists tightly, rage building within. "I swear, when I find the guys who did this…"

Faith turned to stare at him, confused. "G-Guys? What are you talking about?"

"Who did this to you?" he asked tightly. "Who magicked you up like that?"

She shook her head. "That wasn't magic, Xander. It was just…"

"What?" he pressed on.

She gritted her teeth. "It's really none of your business."

"None of my business?" he demanded incredulously. "Faith, I brought you up here! If I hadn't have been there-"

"I would have made it upstairs on my own, like I always do," Faith said, the atmosphere in the room suddenly chilly. "I don't need you to save me."

"Or you would have jumped the next available guy you saw!" Xander pointed out, annoyed. He hadn't expected gratitude, per se, but her anger bothered him a little more than he'd have admitted. "And what do you mean, like you always do? How often does this happen?"

Faith's face darkened. "Fine. You want to know what happened? I had sex. Really good, mind-blowing sex with my- my boyfriend. So yeah, I was caught in the afterglow. And the only reason I touched you was because I was so dazed that I thought you were him. Got it?"

He gaped at her. "W-What?" _That_ he wasn't expecting. And he certainly hadn't expected it to sting that much.

She looked away from him, suddenly embarrassed. "Whatever, Xander. Just go away."

"I'm staying here until Buffy comes back," he said stubbornly. "I'm not leaving you alone ."

"Fine." Faith sat up, and yanked her shirt over her head in one smooth move.

Xander stared, his mouth suddenly very dry. She wasn't wearing a bra, and her breasts were proudly exposed, full and rounded and bruised with little reddish hickeys. He'd never seen anything quite so beautiful. "Wh-What are you doing?"

"Taking a shower." She met his gaze challengingly. "I think we're past modesty, don't you?" Her pants slipped down lower until she stood before him in stark nakedness, looking defiant and angry and just a bit ashamed. And god, he'd never wanted to kiss her more, to make those lost eyes go away.

"Faith…" he said roughly, struggling to stand, to walk over to her and take her into his arms. "I…" He stumbled over to her until they were standing inches apart, her eyes wide with something akin to fear. "You…" She was shivering slightly, and he rubbed his hands against her arms to warm them. She moved closer, her nipples almost touching his still-clothed chest, unable to tear her gaze from his. He leaned forward…

The doorknob rattled suddenly and Faith jumped away from him, looking horrified. "I don't know why I did that. I'm sorry," she said in one breath and dove into the little bathroom between her room and the next one, leaving Xander stunned and wordless behind her.

Buffy pushed the door open, looking in surprise at him. "Xander! Hey. Uh…what are you doing here?" She ran a hand through her bloody hair self-consciously.

"Just…talking to Faith." He nodded vaguely at the bathroom door.

Buffy frowned worriedly. "Is everything okay?"

_No_. "Yeah." He left to his own room, his mind buzzing with thoughts. There was something wrong with Faith. Very wrong. He was positive that she was going through some sort of crisis. And maybe she didn't want him to save her, but he was going to do just that, whether she liked it or not.

He was sure her vaunted _boyfriend_ didn't care enough to do it.

* * *

The next time he saw Faith was two days later, in a dingy pub just outside the biggest cemetery in the city. He and Jesse had wandered the graveyard for nearly two hours, spotting three vampires and two demons before they'd decided to call it a night. Xander had deemed the foray a success, seeing as they'd managed to stake one of the vampires and made it away from the demons with no injuries, and buoyed by the experience, he suggested that they stop in the pub and eat a second dinner there.

They were both close enough to sixteen that no one gave them a second look, and Xander sank down into a booth across from Jesse before he caught sight of her, sitting on the counter of the bar and chatting freely with some older guys. His stomach twisted. "I'll be right back."

She rolled her eyes at him when he approached, and he wasn't sure if the flush in her cheeks was from embarrassment or alcohol. "Look, everyone!" she said, mock-cheerful. "It's Xander Harris!"

"Yeah?" One of the older boys sneered at him. "Bugger off, we've got her."

"Like hell you do. What are you doing here?" Xander demanded through gritted teeth. "Are you drunk?"

"I'm fully in control of myself today, thanks," she said coolly. "No mistakes today."

He flushed. "Listen, about the other day…"

"I said, bugger _off_!" The boy shoved into him as he moved toward Faith, and Xander stumbled backward, crashing into a stool in the process. Faith turned away, uninterested.

Xander narrowed his eyes at the boy and lurched forward, slamming his fist into the boy's gut. Immediately, the boy's friends jumped on him, pounding and beating him as he fought back, getting in a few kicks and punches before he was thoroughly thrashed by the mass of bigger boys. He heard Jesse's whoop from a distance as his friend joined the fray, some irritated-sounding men shouting as they tried to break up the fight, and eventually, Faith's furious voice as she ordered them off until she finally knocked them away from him with slayer skill and stood over him protectively.

He stared at her through rapidly bruising eyes. "Faith?"

"Why do you have to be such an idiot?" she groused, helping him up.

"Don't come back here," one of the men growled at them. "Any of you!"

The gang of boys left reluctantly, tossing surly glares at the three of them. "Let's get out of here," Jesse said, cheerful at what he saw as their victory, and slung one of Xander's arms over his shoulder.

Faith took the other one, giving Xander a dirty look. "What were you thinking?"

He tried to shrug, but it hurt too much. "Just trying to help," he mumbled.

She shook her head. "You're an idiot," she said again.

"So you've said." But she still helped him walk the five blocks back to the Academy, scowling all the way.

"I've got to take care of something," Jesse said when they'd finally unloaded Xander onto his bed. "You gonna be okay?"

"Yeah." He closed his eyes, enjoying the reprieve from pain that came from the motion. "Fine." He waited until Jesse was gone before he murmured, "Thank you."

"Yeah, well, I wasn't going to let you get yourself killed out there," Faith said lightly, but he could sense her closing herself off already. "Now we're even."

"Faith Lehane, are you actually admitting that you could have used my help the other day?" he asked, grinning.

He could practically hear her eyes roll. "You'd like that, wouldn't you."

"Oh, more than anything." Emboldened by his luck with her so far, he hoisted himself up and opened his eyes again. "So…do you really have a boyfriend?"

A strange expression crossed her face. "I have…someone," she said guardedly, wrapping her arms around herself. "Why?"

"Nothing." He shook his head and winced at the pain that followed. "Never mind."

She helped him lie back down, running a soft palm along his bruised cheek for a moment. "Take care of yourself, Harris," she said softly, and edged out of the room.

* * *

Faith's heart was pounding, and she wasn't quite sure why, except that Xander had somehow triggered this miniature heart attack. _He's an idiot_, she reminded herself. _He's just trying to…to…to what?_

That was what scared her most of all about him, the way that he didn't seem to expect anything of her. He just hung around, keeping an eye out for her in the dining hall and watching her during class when he thought she didn't notice, those big brown eyes probing deep inside her and seeing everything. And he _cared_. Dammit, he cared about everyone. Everything. Even her. And it was too much for her to-

She choked out a sob that she hadn't quite expected, sinking to the floor in despair. What was happening to her? What was wrong with her?

She reached for the charm in her pocket and clutched it tightly, rising and heading for the stairs. Never mind the way that Spike and Darla looked at her like she was nothing or the way that the other Aurelians leered and scoffed. She needed Angelus now, more than ever before. Because he made her feel like she was worth something.

And for reasons she didn't want to contemplate, it wasn't nearly as frightening as when Xander did the same.


	25. Chapter 25

The pretty little doe-eyed potential was writhing against Angelus's fingers somewhere near the front of the bars, the Aurelians had once again been ordered to give them privacy, and Spike was so very bored. "Why doesn't he just order the bint to free us already?" he muttered from his vantage point on the far bed in the cage.

Darla gave him a scathing look, but it lacked most of her usual punch, and he knew that she was nearly as fed up with Angelus's new pet as he was. Especially since Angelus seemed to be having his depraved needs satisfied by violating the baby potential and fucking Dru to the ground, leaving Darla cold and untouched. And nothing angered Darla more than being ignored. "This is art, William. Not the directionless brawling that you seem to consider a staple of vampiric life. Angelus knows what he's doing."

_And you're much more like me than like him_, Spike thought, but he didn't say anything, preferring to contemplate the corruption of Faith the Potential instead. The whole thing was distasteful, really, but nothing new and unusual for Angelus. And yet, Spike was disappointed by the regularity with which Faith returned to Angelus. He'd found out early on that she was a friend of his potential's, and he'd expected better of her by proxy. He couldn't imagine Buffy falling into a trap like this as readily as Faith had.

A fond smile crossed his face as he thought of his young protégé. Yes, he was glad that she was far from Angelus's clutches. Someone as full of life as Buffy had no place in the dank, unsavory underground of her school. She was full of goodness, so compassionate that she still flinched when she tried to stake him, and he hated to think of her stained with darkness like her friend. She was meant to be a slayer, and the very best one there was. He'd make sure of that.

She was still losing their fights, but she'd been getting in a few hits that he hadn't prepared for and he hadn't broken anything vital since their third match. Slowly, her fighting style was maturing and developing into an amalgam of her initial style and his own, so nuanced and skilled that he was certain that she'd be a challenge for any other master vampire, even without slayer strength.

He closed his eyes, mentally replaying the last fight they'd had. Buffy was growing more adept at covering herself while on the offense, but he'd noticed that she was unconsciously pulling her high kicks and mitigating their effectiveness. Next time he saw her, he'd have her practice a few on him until he could pinpoint the problem. It had started right…_there_. Buffy had gotten closer to him, had kicked upwards, and he'd grabbed her foot on descent and yanked until she'd fallen to the ground, headfirst. She'd smashed her head then, and there had been so much blood… He'd been concerned at first, had bent down to check on her, but she'd jumped up before he could reached her, kicking his face in the process and informing him primly that regardless of the fact that it had already left her body, her blood was not up for grabs.

He laughed aloud, earning a disapproving glare from Darla. That was his Buffy, hard to intimidate and even harder to keep down. At first, he'd been stunned to hear that she'd be fighting him regularly at the mere age of fifteen, but now he understood. When Buffy was determined to do something, nothing could make her give it up. Not the Academy rules, not Giles, and not even the violence he'd subjected her to in their first battles.

A distant set of footsteps echoed through the caves, and Angelus jerked away from his plaything. "Hide," he ordered her, and she took off, heading for the rooms at the other end of the basement. This wasn't the first time that someone had come while Angelus was entertaining a potential, and the Aurelians were prepared, drifting out of their back rooms to simulate their standard, everyday lives. Dru watched Spike oddly from her cell, and he strolled over to her and reached a hand through the bars, stroking her face with his palm. "What's wrong, pet?"

She gave him an odd smile, madness and wisdom all at once. "Poppies and sunshine my Spike dreams of. Fire consumes…" She frowned suddenly, a sadness passing over her face. "Fire consumes you."

He sighed. "Dru…"

She changed the subject abruptly. "Someone's coming now, coming to change it all. And man will be beast, and beast will be man, and then…oh! Flames! Fire consumes you! I shan't-" She shrieked a long, unending note before she fell silent, quivering with rage and terror.

"You shan't what, Drusilla?" The voice wasn't an unwelcome one, but Spike growled with annoyance anyway. Watchers had taken Dru during visions before, and even though Gunn had never been the one to summon her, he was still wary of the man's presence so close to her.

Gunn held up a hand. "Relax, Spike. I'm here for you, not her." He nodded to Collins beside him, who lowered the barrier and unlocked the cell door. "I have some free time tonight, thought we could get some sparring done."

"I could do with some sparring." He hadn't fought Buffy in three days, his only match recently having been with an average-level nineteen-year-old he could have beaten with his eyes closed, and he'd been getting antsy.

He exited the cage, watching with amusement as Darla directed cruel eyes at Collins as he slammed the door closed again. She was too prideful, too set on hurting the watchers somehow, and because of that, she'd never be able to intimidate someone like Collins. No, the special ops watchers reacted only to physical attacks, which was why, once they were free, he'd be the one to rip them apart in lieu of Angelus's mind games.

Gunn fell into step with him. "How's it going?"

He arched an eyebrow. "Well, we attended a marvelous party in Bath last week," he said, affecting a crusty upper-class accent. "Dru thought that the company was distasteful, but I found them quite charming and how the bloody hell do you think it's going?" he demanded tartly, reverting to his normal voice. "Locked in a cage, no one to eat or shag, coming out for air only to fend off whiny potentials? It's sodding heaven!"

Gunn waved him off. "Yeah, yeah, and if you weren't in that cell, you'd be killing them instead. Somehow, I can't bring myself to feel for you."

"I'm hurt, really," Spike said good-naturedly. He was long resigned to his fate, and at least Gunn gave him a measure of freedom. The watcher before him had only let him upstairs to fight, and even then, only against the very best students. Gunn had more reason to hate the vampires in the basement than most, but he'd always treated Spike well, and for that, he was grateful.

They reached the main training room and Spike frowned at the scent he suddenly caught wafting from the room. It smelled like…

"So I keep pulling my high kicks," Buffy was saying when they entered the room, stretching a long, lean leg up against her upper body.

One of Gunn's assistants was standing behind her, his hands holding her leg firmly. "It doesn't seem to be physical," Finn said, bending the knee and unbending it. Unbidden, a growl escaped Spike as he watched the man training with _his_ potential.

Gunn gave him a sharp look. "Problem, Spike?"

He fell silent, watching Buffy darkly.

A girl moved into his line of sight, the slayer who'd been hired as one of Gunn's assistants after she'd graduated in the summer. "Try kicking at me now," she suggested. "Ri, keep her steady."

"Okay." Buffy chewed her lower lip in that way she did when she focused on her body's movements, and Spike took an involuntary step forward, stopping only when Gunn put a warning hand on his shoulder. He knew that he was being irrationally possessive, that Buffy was certainly fighting other vampires and humans when he wasn't around, but she was _his_ protégé, and…

And…

And she was bloody beautiful when she fought, and some bulky hack of a watcher didn't deserve to be on the receiving line of that.

Buffy spun around to face Finn, moving with the dangerous grace and speed that Spike had come to expect from her, and nearly kicked him in the chin, retracting only at the last moment with a victorious whoop.

Spike grinned at her triumph. He stepped forward and clapped slowly, drawling, "Nice work, love."

She spun around, her eyes wide in surprise. "Spike! What are you doing here? School ended, like, five hours ago."

He jabbed a thumb at Gunn. "This one wanted to have a playdate," he said dryly, strolling across the room to where she was standing. Finn and the girl tensed, and he smirked, inhaling their fear with a level of glee. "Off you go, children," he told them, giving them his nastiest glare.

"Spike…" Gunn said warningly, but the two watchers were already on their way out, tossing back wary glances at him.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Are you seriously trying to be scary? You're wearing a _collar_ and your name is Spike."

"Oi! I'm scary!" he said indignantly.

Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, like a vicious Chihuahua."

He lunged for her. "Oh, that's _it_-"

She laughingly countered with a perfect high kick that he barely dodged before he was wracked with sudden, intense pain. "ARRRGH!" He was writhing on the ground in agony, clutching his sides as electricity shattered his body.

"Spike! _Spike_!" Buffy dropped down beside him, her hands struggling to calm him, to find out what was wrong, but he barely felt her presence, so overcome by the shocks coming from his collar that he couldn't think or focus on anything else. "Turn it _off_!" she was shouting, and he heard it from afar, his eyes blurred and his body twitching, until…

Silence. Blessed calm, the shock finally wearing off, and the last waves of pain slowly dissipating. He winced. "Bugger."

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked, and he squinted up at her worried face with a sort of vague fascination.

"He's fine." That was Gunn, his voice colder than Spike had ever heard it before. "Buffy, step away from him."

Her eyes flashed with anger. "He wasn't going to hurt me! You didn't have to zap him that hard!" Despite her heated tone, her hands were still rubbing a slow, soothing pattern down his chest, calming him gently. "You didn't have to zap him at all!"

Gunn spoke with cool purpose. "Spike knows that he can't attack students off the game floor, regardless of whether or not you thought he was a danger. That creature in front of you is an animal, one who'd use your trust of him against you if he weren't restrained, Buffy. He's a monster." He moved toward them, and Spike nearly quailed at his icy expression. "Spike. Turn."

He shifted to game face and watched with sad resignation as Buffy recoiled. She'd been fun to train, and he was going to miss their fights when she invariably asked Giles to give her a different vampire to fight.

But to his surprise, after the initial shock, she shrugged and settled back down next to him. "I know he's a vampire, Gunn. I'm not stupid. But he's not going to hurt me." Spike gave her a toothy smile that she returned, a finger moving to trace the ridges on his forehead.

Gunn let out an exasperated sigh, forcibly pulling Buffy away to stand beside him. "No?" He motioned for Spike to stand, and Spike stumbled to his feet, still a little woozy from the shocks. "Spike, what do you see when you're around Buffy? Student? Friend? Partner?" His eyes were dark, warning the vampire to say what he had to to keep Buffy wary.

Spike sighed. "Target. Food," he said blandly.

Buffy turned hurt eyes to him, and he felt like the world's biggest asshole. "Really?"

He nodded, keeping his game face on firmly as a mask. His human face was far too expressive for this lie. "Really."

She slumped. "Oh."

"Buffy, I think you should go. The training rooms should have been closed a half hour ago, anyway," Gunn said tersely.

"S-Sam said that it would be fine if I stayed a little late, since I missed training yesterday and today because I was sick." Buffy darted another chagrined look at him.

Gunn sighed. "It's okay. This wasn't your fault. Just check with me first next time, so I don't bring up any vampires while you're still here. Sam probably should have mentioned it, too." He shook his head.

"Okay." She glanced back at Spike one last time, and he couldn't stop himself in time, reverting to human face and tossing her a wink. She narrowed her eyes at him, but he knew that she could see the apology written all over his face and that he was already forgiven. "Goodnight." She grinned faintly and hurried out of the room.

"You shouldn't have done that," Gunn said, watching her go.

Spike shrugged. "I'm your model vampire, right? What's the worst that could happen?"

"You know exactly what," Gunn 's hands bunched into fists.

"She's not…" Spike took a step away from the other man. "It isn't like that. She's not like that. _I'm_ not like that."

Gunn gave him a hard look. "I hope not." He pulled a stake from his pocket, the wooden one that he always kept on his person, and held it so close to Spike that he could hear the faint sound of alarms blaring in the basement. "Because as valuable as you are to us, I won't hesitate to stake you if I think that you're a danger to one of my students."

Spike nodded. If it had been anyone else, he would have laughed it off or taunted him, but Gunn…he didn't blame Gunn for being wary. "Understood."


	26. Chapter 26

Faith shook her head disbelievingly. "Here. Tonight."

"Yes, here tonight!" Buffy scowled at her roommate. "It's just one night. And I thought that you would be okay with it, since you've been all about blowing me off lately." Maybe she was being a bit harsh, but she was fed up with Faith's ongoing sulk about her having other friends. And if Faith wasn't going to spend time with her even after they'd talked about it, then she wasn't going to keep sparing Faith's feelings by keeping the rest of her life out of their room.

Besides, Faith had been even worse than usual lately. Not only was she avoiding Buffy when they were with the watchers, but now she even avoided their room at night, disappearing for hours and not returning until Buffy was getting ready for bed, dazed and…well, _off_ somehow. Buffy had been concerned at first, but she had had enough. She sighed, turning her back to Faith and testing the weight of her dresser. At least Willow still seemed to like her fine. And Tara was also pretty nice, even if she was quiet and Buffy had only really invited her to the impromptu sleepover because she'd been there when Buffy had asked Willow. She sort of thought of Tara and Willow as a package deal, anyway.

"What are you doing?" Faith was idly twirling a plastic stake on her pointer finger as she watched Buffy struggle with the dresser.

"Making room for another mattress. I think that one can fit between our beds, and maybe another at the foot…" The dresser tilted precariously in her direction, and suddenly, there was an extra set of hands supporting it, pushing it back in place as Faith took over.

"Forget it, B. You can share my bed, and Willow and Tara can take yours," she said, shrugging nonchalantly. But there was a flush on her face and a pout just below the surface, and Buffy knew that she wasn't thrilled with the arrangement.

Faith wasn't as bad as the rest of the dorm, though, and the slayer hallway erupted when Cordelia heard that two watchers were coming to spend the night. "Absolutely_not_," she announced, tossing her hair. "It's bad enough that we have to put up with you spending all your time in_public _with them, but we're not having any watchers hanging out on our side of the dorm!" There was a clamor of agreement from the other slayers in the hall, even Molly, who Buffy had always thought was all right.

Luckily, Buffy had a get-out-of-jail-free card when it came to Cordy. "Please. Like you don't drape yourself all over the guys?" she pointed out, raising an eyebrow warningly in reminder of the information she had.

But it wasn't effective this time, and Eve stepped forward, crossing her arms and meeting Buffy's gaze challengingly. "We date the guys because there are no slayer ones. Even Ken wouldn't touch the watcher girls, right?"

Kennedy frowned. "Actually, I-"

Cordy cut her off smoothly. "This is our territory, and we won't have watchers thinking that they can come in whenever they want and have _pajama parties_ with Buffy!"

"Yeah!" The other slayers nodded vigorously like the good little drones they were, and Buffy heaved a sigh. Of course they were going to turn this into a big deal. No, she couldn't even enjoy some time with her friends without everyone taking offense at it… She thought longingly of the watchers, who never gave her dirty looks when she spent time with them. But no, she amended mentally. They might not have been as against slayers spending time with watchers, but they certainly gave her dirty looks, like she was beneath them, and last week Nancy Doyle had even asked her how it felt to know that she'd spend the next five years on useless training to do nothing but die painfully. Watchers weren't pleasant as a whole, either, but watching helplessly as the slayers rounded on her with accusations, Buffy couldn't help but wonder if it might have been easier to have just been a watcher. _And how sad is it that my dormmates alone can make me want to forsake my sacred calling?_

"Excuse me! Girls!" From behind the crowd of slayers, Buffy could hear Mr. Wyndham-Pryce's voice, calling for their attention with little success.

She glimpsed Miss Calendar beside him, putting two fingers in her mouth and letting out a magically-enhanced whistle so high-pitched that even the loudest slayers fell silent. "What's going on here?" she demanded.

Cordelia turned to sneer haughtily at their den mother. "Buffy wants to bring _watchers_ to the dorm tonight."

"Watchers?" Mr. Wyndham-Pryce asked disbelievingly.

"Girls?" Miss Calendar added.

"Uh, duh?"

"That's fine," Miss Calendar said, quirking an eyebrow as she looked at Buffy with something akin to respect. "There are no rules against girls sleeping over in their friends' rooms, as long as you don't get too rowdy."

"Miss Calendar, are you sure that's a good idea?" Mr. Wyndham-Pryce looked alarmed at the thought of it. "Watchers and slayers fraternizing like that?"

Miss Calendar shrugged. "Makes no difference to me, and it isn't against school policy."

"But-" He fell silent at the look on Miss Calendar's face, and leaned back against the wall beside her, giving the crowd of girls a fisheyed glare until they reluctantly filed off, and Buffy slipped back into her room. Faith had somehow escaped the other slayers before the confrontation, and she was missing again. Of course.

Outside the room, Miss Calendar and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce were still speaking quietly. "It's not appropriate," Mr. Wyndham-Pryce was saying in low, anxious tones. "Watchers and slayers are meant to be separate. How else can we ensure that the watchers can send their slayers to fight death each night? Or that they won't be cowed by a strong-minded slayer?"

"I don't think you're really one to admonish about inappropriate relationships," Miss Calendar said archly. "Not from what I've heard."

"Cheap shot, Jenny." And Mr. Wyndham-Pryce sounded suddenly weary.

And it must have been, because Miss Calendar's voice softened. "Leave them to their friendships, okay? In more ways than one, this particular slayer seems to be the exception to the rule. And from what I remember from when you were a student, you were also close to some of the slayers."

"And if I'd been Beatriz's watcher?" Mr. Wydham-Pryce murmured. "I don't know if I'd have sent her out when she was so young and inexperienced. I would have let my emotions get in the way." He exhaled slowly, and Buffy tiptoed closer to the door to hear better. "I would have made a terrible-" He stopped abruptly, and then he was saying brightly, "Ah! Miss Rosenberg, Miss Maclay! You must be Buffy's guests for tonight!"

Willow came into the room moments later, followed by Tara and looking vaguely bemused. "Why are the dorm supervisors guarding your door?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Cordy's on the warpath. Don't ask. You two okay with sharing a bed?"

Tara's eyes widened, but she nodded vigorously and flushed. Willow shrugged. "Sure. Where's Faith?"

"She'll be back eventually." _Hopefully_.

* * *

She was, somewhere around the third hour of cookies and giggles, and she managed a mumbled greeting before she climbed into her bed and fell immediately asleep.

"I-Is she okay?" Tara asked, eyeing her worriedly.

Buffy nodded, feeling a sudden surge of defensiveness on behalf of her roommate at Willow's suddenly curious gaze. "She's fine. She just…had a thing…tonight."

"Oh, a _thing_," Willow teased, grinning. Her eyes widened. "Wait, like a _thing_ thing?"

Buffy frowned. "What kind of thing thing?"

"You know, a _thing_." Willow raised her eyebrows significantly.

"Oh! No! I mean, I don't know." Buffy clambered off of Faith's bed to join Willow and Tara on her own, worried about waking Faith so she could hear them talking about her sex life. If that was what they were talking about. Buffy wasn't quite sure. "She isn't…it doesn't matter," she said finally. And it didn't, not now. Regardless of how secretive Faith was being, even if Buffy had known what she was up to, that was no business of Willow's.

Willow's cheeks were red, but her eyes were sparkling with mischief. "So…have you?"

"Me?" Buffy shook her head, eyes wide. "Oh, no. I mean, what do you mean?" She thought back to a few nights experimenting with herself and flushed.

"Come on, you must have gotten some nice smoochies, at least!" Willow prodded.

Buffy laughed self-consciously. "Yeah, well, I don't date much. I've kissed a few guys, but nothing more than that." Her first kiss had been with a watcher a year older named Pike, and they'd even dated for a week or two before Faith had scared him off. "How about you? You're the one with a boyfriend!"

"Oz is a gentleman," Willow confided, grinning. "So there's been some under-the-shirt touching but not more than that. Just nice smoochies!"

"And you don't want more than that? You guys have been together forever!" Buffy settled in between Willow and a crimson Tara, who was determinedly staring in the direction of the floor as she listened. "I mean, if I were crazy about a guy, I'd want to-" She paused, the memories of what she'd seen between Cordy and Jesse in the library bubbling up again. "Go further, you know?"

Willow made a face. "I don't know. Sometimes, I still feel like this is all so new, and I think that I don't even _want_ to go any further-" Buffy felt Tara straighten beside her. "But then I think about how great Oz is, and I can't imagine not…you know…ing with him." Tara slumped again, and Buffy gave her a curious look.

"You're so lucky you found someone so great," Buffy said wistfully. "It seems like Oz is the only decent guy in the whole grade."

"Well, there's Xander," Willow pointed out. "He always liked you, and as long as he isn't off chasing demons in the woods with Jesse and Oz-" She pouted, annoyed- "He's okay."

"Yeah, he's a good guy." But she'd never really been attracted to him, and she got the sense that at this point, he thought of her as more of a friend than a potential girlfriend. "How about you, Tara?"

Tara shrugged. "I-I'm not r-really dating."

"Oh." There was an awkward silence, which Buffy broke eventually, saying brightly, "So, Professor Rayne, Giles and Gunn. Marry, do, shove off a cliff?"

They all agreed that they'd marry Giles and do Gunn, that they'd marry Jonathan and do Parker, and Willow was trying to convince them to shove Forrest Gates off the cliff instead of Graham Miller when the hand she had wedged between Buffy's mattress and the wall closed on a thick sheaf of papers. "What's this?" she asked, tugging at it.

"Don't-" But it was already too late, and Willow was gazing down at Miss Chalmer's thesis with horrified befuddlement.

"But this is a _library_ book!" she exclaimed, holding it up.

Buffy shrugged self-consciously. "They'll never notice that it's gone. And Miss Chalmers can just reprint it if they need another copy."

"That's not the point!" Willow flipped through it, her eyes skimming from page to page as she scanned the thesis. "You can't just…" She took a deep breath. "Okay. I'm not going to be rules-girl. You're my friend, and if you want to steal books from the library, then I will support you and help cover up the evidence."

Buffy grinned. "You're the best, Will." She smoothed down the pages and tucked the thesis into her night table drawer.

Tara gave her a searching look, but Willow just forced a grin and added, "And now I have a new one. Marry, do, kill; William the Bloody, Angelus, and Darla?"

Buffy grabbed a pillow and bopped her on the head, leading to a pillow fight of epic proportions that ended only when a stray pillow hit a sleeping Faith squarely in the face. Even Tara had gotten into it, and when Willow finally begged off to sleep, Buffy and Tara were both too revved up to join her in slumber.

"Thanks for inviting me," Tara said shyly as they slid to the floor against Faith's bed. "This was nice."

"Yeah, it was." She smiled at the quiet girl, who'd been surprisingly fun once she'd relaxed. "So…" She struggled for something to talk about, but Tara beat her to the punch.

"You still haven't answered what you'd do with William the Bloody," she reminded her, a twinkle of amusement in her eye.

Buffy smiled enigmatically. Spike wasn't a topic she liked to discuss with anyone. Regardless of the fact that all their battles were in a public stadium, they still felt _private_somehow, special to her, and talking about that to anyone else almost cheapened it.

On the other hand, there _was_ something she wanted to talk about. And Tara seemed the sort who could keep a secret. "Can I ask you something?" she blurted out.

"Sure."

"I just…a few weeks ago, I saw Gunn zap Spike. Hard. And he wasn't even doing anything. We were messing around, that's all." She sighed. "And I know that it's stupid, and he's a soulless, evil vampire, but it just seemed _wrong_ to me. Spike…he's kind of like my trainer now, and as far as I know, he hasn't killed anyone in over a decade. Is it wrong for me to think that he doesn't deserve it?" Her eyes were welling up with tears as she remembered Spike on the ground, made pathetic by pain that seemed so incongruous on a vampire as strong as he. The memory still hurt, and even Gunn's expression had hurt, the amount of hatred he'd suddenly had for Spike unnerving her completely.

A warm hand moved to clasp her own. "No," Tara said simply. "It's not."

There was a long silence before Tara spoke again. "I used to think that I was a demon," she said quietly. "It took a long time for me to figure out otherwise. It was an old family myth used to keep the women in check, and I was terrified. I thought I wasn't worthy of being a watcher, of being treated like a human." Intense, earnest eyes turned to meet hers. "But I _was_, even if I had been a demon, Giles explained to me. There are lots of harmless demons, demons who can do good or who just mind their own business."

"Giles is in love with a demon," Buffy murmured. It felt odd to verbalize it when an unspoken taboo had been placed on discussing all things Anya and demony, but not on this strange night when Tara felt like the one person she could talk to.

"I know. He told me." Tara squeezed her hand. "What happens to the demons- the vampires- here isn't right, regardless of the fact that it's necessary. And I guess that Gunn has his reasons, but I'd never condone hurting a helpless captive. There's nothing wrong with that bothering you. It just makes you human."

"Thank you." Instinctually, she moved closer to Tara, borrowing into her side, and the two girls were silent, lost in their individual contemplations.

* * *

Willow must have been dreaming, since the last thing she remembered was getting into Buffy's bed, and now she was in Ethan's lab with Tara, doing magic. And they were both naked, but it seemed perfectly natural in the dream, just another aspect to the magic. Weird.

"Ready?" Tara was saying, and Willow nodded, closing her eyes and joining hands with her friend. "We call upon the goddess," Tara began, and Willow joined in. "We call upon Astarte to work our will."

The chant went on for quite some time, and Willow was suddenly aware that she'd moved closer to Tara and was sliding her hands from Tara's palms down her wrists and arms and toward her body. Tara was still speaking, but Willow had fallen silent, her focus solely on Tara.

The magic rose within them and they both began to rise through the air, so Willow caught hold of Tara around the waist and hoisted herself up to reach the taller girl, attacking her lips with sudden gusto. Tara wrapped her arms around Willow, pulling her closer, letting their mouths mold together as the magic brought them higher, reaching closer and closer to their peaks…Willow's attentions moved lower to latch onto a dusky pink nipple on rounded, full breasts that made her quiver with desire, kissing and licking and tugging at one while her hand moved to the other to do the same, and Tara arched and cried out in ecstasy as she came, her legs wrapping around Willow's and leaving a warm gush of fluid somewhere near her navel as they shook together.

Then Tara swooped down upon her, pulling her upwards and reaching toward her sex, and she'd no sooner put a hand on it when Willow came as well, nearly crying at the intensity of it all, and her eyes popped open as she gasped for air.

She was back in Buffy's bedroom, three sets of slow breaths reassuring her that no one else was awake. There was an uncomfortable stickiness staining her underwear, her legs were tangled in Tara's, and- _Oh, god_. Tara's shirt had ridden up during the night, and Willow's cheek was resting against a breast as soft as the one she'd dreamt of._This can't be happening_. But the sheer absurdity of the situation escaped her with the proximity of Tara's body, and she could only stare for a few moments, a tiny voice in her head wondering if it could really feel like that.

_No. No, this did_ not _happen, and I am not staying here any longer_. She pulled away from Tara, shaking, and slipped out of the bed, padding back to her room in the next hall as quickly as she could in only her socks and wondering,_What's wrong with me?_


	27. Chapter 27

Giles was certain of two things the moment Quentin Travers walked into his Academy. Firstly, it was going to be hell to put up with him and still run his school. Travers usually limited his visits to vacations and the summers, since he greatly disliked children and was quite obvious about it, but when he did arrive, he'd stay around, interrogating staff and students to ensure that Giles wasn't slipping up. The head of the Council made no secret of his dislike of the principal and Giles's less than Spartan methods, and he never failed to attempt to find enough problems with the school to have a reason to replace Giles. As of yet, though, no watchers had expressed a desire to oust Giles from his position, and Giles was confident that Travers would never get the chance.

After all, he was quite good at his job.

The second thing he was positive of was that he was going to despise the woman standing beside Travers. There was something about that lab coat that was so sterile and scientific, and above all else, Giles despised the science of the Demon Research Initiative. Dr. Maggie Walsh appeared to be the worst sort of researcher, the kind who would take apart live demons to see how they worked and then put them back together, regardless of how dangerous they were. And as far as Giles was concerned, evil demons were to be killed or, on rare occasions, used to train slayers. Research was to be done as all watchers had in the past, through observation and captivity, not through the cold methods of the scientists.

He thought anxiously of Anya, praying that she was safe in his apartment or out of town by now. Travers had a way of detecting when Giles was hiding something, and if he found Anya…

He shuddered.

"Is there a problem, Mr. Giles?" Walsh looked unreasonably tetchy for someone who'd only met him moments before.

But Giles seized the opportunity when it came. "I'd rather that your research was kept out of the Academy, yes."

"And I'd rather that you had more efficient safety protocols for our facility," she retorted. "I attempted to program in my assistants' retinal scans and discovered that you've overridden the entire program."

"Well, it shouldn't take long for you to reinstate it," Giles remarked, inwardly smirking. He'd asked Ethan to take care of that program over a year ago, when it had started zapping every unregistered vampire they'd brought back to the Academy, and knowing Ethan, it was now damaged beyond repair.

"When I opened the security sequence, it spontaneously combusted." Oh, yes, there it was. As principal of a school meant for strong-minded girls, Giles had gotten quite a few nasty looks over the years, but Maggie Walsh's right now could have melted steel. "It would seem that you're attempting to sabotage the Initiative's program."

"Now, now." Travers hurried to speak, but Giles saw the twitch of smug satisfaction in his expression at their argument. "We'll have other protocols set up for you, Dr. Walsh, and I'm sure Mr. Giles would be happy to help you."

"Especially since you brought along the protocols already," said a dry voice from behind them, and Giles nearly jumped, startled as he was to hear it. "_Now_ can I go spar?" Narra Invierno, slayer and former Academy student, was leaning against the doorway, looking utterly bored.

"Narra! Ah, what brings you here?"

She inclined her head in acknowledgement, shrugging a little. "Cruciamentum."

"I see." While the original Cruciamentum had become obsolete once slayers had begun training against vampires while they were still potentials, a new test had been established for slayers nearing their eighteenth birthday. Narra would be trapped on the game floor and forced to fight three master vampires consecutively, and no one would be permitted to interfere. The Cruciamentum hadn't killed a slayer in thirty-five years, but it still worried Giles more than he'd have liked Travers to see.

"She'll begin immediately, of course," Travers informed them, and Giles gritted his teeth, annoyed.

"We have students in all the training rooms right now. Perhaps if I'd been informed ahead of time…?"

Travers waved his hand. "Never mind that," he said airily. "We'll just have them watch the slayer spar first; get a grasp of what they can be."

_Or of their own ultimate deaths_, Giles thought, but he didn't say anything. Narra was a good slayer; she wouldn't lose her battles. Especially not if Giles chose her opponents carefully.

The main training room had two separate game floors set up, and two of the youngest slayers, Kennedy and Buffy, were going at their opponents with single-minded intensity. Giles observed Buffy carefully as she took on Spike. Gunn had mentioned that he was concerned about her attachment to the vampire, but from what Giles knew of Spike, attachment to him wasn't an uncommon occurrence, and not something that would lead to more dire consequences. Not yet, anyway.

Narra followed his gaze to the two blondes locked in battle and watched with sudden intensity. "Why are you letting them do that?"

"What do you mean?"

She shook her head, looking disgusted. "They're not fighting to harm or bite or stake. They're _playing_."

"Playing?" But once she'd pointed it out, Giles saw it. The little jerks forward that he'd thought of as blocked attacks were being carefully telegraphed on Spike's part, set to slow and stop if Buffy didn't catch them. The kicks that Buffy kept pulling were designed to hit just below Spike's chin instead of hitting him in the face. They were hurting each other, of course, slamming fists and feet into faces and chests, but even those had little force behind them. This was a game to both of them, and for a moment, Giles understood what had made Gunn so nervous.

When Spike threw Buffy down to the ground and crawled up her body to her neck, Giles had finally had enough. "Stop!" he ordered, suddenly conscious of Travers's eyes on him. He could only hope that the head of the Council didn't recognize the fight for what it had been.

Buffy scowled from somewhere beneath Spike. "What, now?" She kneed at Spike to get him off of her, but he just smirked and bent to her neck. She closed her eyes, clearly savoring it, and Giles ground his teeth together for the second time that day and started toward the barrier, nodding to the Watcher-in-training who'd been keeping the magical field up to drop it.

Before he could pull them apart, though, Spike was rising and holding out a hand to help Buffy up, too. "Sorry, Rupes," he drawled. "Didn't realize that we had company."

Buffy frowned at him, her hand still clasped in Spike's. Giles looked at it pointedly, and she reluctantly dropped it. "Who is that? The Council guy? Travis or something?"

"_And_ the slayer," Spike said pointedly, eyeing the little blonde girl by the door with hungry interest. Giles was beginning to suspect that Spike had a "type".

Buffy smacked him on the arm absentmindedly, her eyes equally intent on Narra. "That's her? The real…the slayer?"

"Yes." Giles glanced back at the visitors at the door. Narra was watching Spike with the same desire, the hunger of a predator handpicking its prey. "Spike, you'll fight Narra right now. Unless you're worn out?" Narra was required to fight vampires at top form for Cruciamentum, and she needed the best practice she could get.

"Hardly. This was just a warm-up." Spike stretched once and nearly fell over when Buffy punched him at the same time.

"I am _not_ a warm-up," she informed him archly, moving into battle stance.

"Buffy!" Giles said warningly. Travers was moving closer, his eyes gleaming with victory at the idea of Giles having a discipline case.

Spike put a hand on her arm reassuringly. "Not now, pet. I might hate your watchers, but even I know that Rupes here is the best of the lot, and nothing good can come from causing him trouble in front of this wanker."

Buffy stared at him. He met her gaze with calm, understanding eyes, and she must have seen something in them, because she let the stance fall and moved quietly to stand behind him.

"Is there a problem here?" Travers, Narra, and that damned Walsh woman had all come over to inspect the situation.

"No!" Buffy shook her head vigorously. "I was…uh…showing Giles- _Mister_ Giles- how I was standing when Spike beat me, that's all."

"Her left side was open," Spike added helpfully.

"Silence, beast," Travers said coldly. "Don't you have a cage for it?"

Buffy opened her mouth to argue with him. Giles gave her a warning look and she snapped it shut, looking sulky. "William the Bloody will be Narra's first opponent," he told Travers.

"Are you certain that's best?" Dr. Walsh asked from her position behind Travers. She was typing busily onto a hand-held tablet, glancing back and forth between Buffy and Spike. "These two have engaged in a vampire/slayer mating dance that would be fascinating to observe. I'd like to see them fight again."

Giles paled. Travers whipped his head to eye Buffy and Spike suspiciously. Spike looked unconcerned, and Buffy was looking down, suddenly very red. "I assure you, this is merely how the slayers fight without intent to kill. You're reading far too much into it."

"Fascinating. I'd like to study more of this behavior, then," Walsh retorted. "See how it ends, and if battles like this are what prompted the last incident."

Buffy wrapped her arms around herself protectively, and Spike moved to put a hand on her shoulder before he appeared to have thought better of it. Giles winced. "Yes, well, that's not why you're here. Collins!" The special ops watcher trotted over to them. "Take Dr. Walsh on a tour of her facility. Narra will begin preparing for her Cruciamentum now."

* * *

Buffy left, feeling embarrassed and grouchy and jealous all at once. Fine, so that woman had basically announced to everyone present that she was kinda-sorta crushing on Spike. And then he hadn't said anything to her before she'd been summarily dismissed, but Giles had given her a _look_ that almost certainly meant that she'd be fighting Spike far less often now. And now he was going up against the slayer, who was much stronger and faster than Buffy would ever be at the Academy. And that's what he _wanted_. Apparently, Buffy was only a "warm-up act" before the real thing.

She took a deep breath, let it out again slowly. No. She wasn't going to do this. She was a mature nearly-sixteen-year-old, and she answered to a much higher calling than acting like a jealous child because someone else was playing with the toy she wanted. Spike could fight whomever he wanted; and to be honest, she understood why he'd want to fight a slayer. He'd made a career out of it. Xin Rong, Sophie Carstensen, Nikki Wood…Narra was another potential victory for him. And Buffy…Buffy was just a potential. _A potential who he trains personally, who he seems to like…_ But a potential nonetheless, and only a diversion for him in the long, empty years as a prisoner of the Academy. She'd been building up her hopes for…what, exactly?

She laughed humorlessly. This had never been a problem before, attraction to someone unattainable. Faith liked to interfere with her relationships, but the few times she'd been serious about it, Faith had let it go- and the boy had always been interested. But Spike was out of bounds, and she had to stop thinking about him like this. He wasn't hers. He'd never be hers. And she had to get over it before this ballooned out of control. Buffy had always prided herself in putting her own strength and self-worth before silly little crushes, and this would be no different.

She was Buffy Summers, Potential Slayer. She was not Buffy Summers of the Spike Fan Club.

And yeah, Buffy Summers, Potential Slayer, might break out of this semi-sulk and head back to the training room to see how Spike and Narra were fighting, not out of jealousy but out of intellectual curiosity.

_Okay, and maybe a little jealousy. I'm not perfect, after all._


	28. Chapter 28

Thank you to all my reviewers! I really appreciate the feedback!

* * *

"Psst! Buffy!" Buffy's eyes shot open and she let out a scream. A hand covered her mouth, muffling it until Buffy finally quieted again, her eyes very wide.

"Anya?" She broke away from Anya's hand and sat up in bed, glancing at her watch as she did. Three AM. Fantastic. "What are you doing here? Trying to kill me?"

Anya shook her head vigorously. "They're here to experiment on me! They're going to find me!"

"Who?" Buffy blinked blearily, glancing over at Faith, who was still fast asleep, with not a small measure of jealousy. Someone was standing at the door of their room, too, and as her vision cleared, she was finally able to pinpoint the light hair and _almost _sympathetic smirk as Eve.

"Have fun," the other girl said smugly, and slipped out, closing the door behind her.

"Okay." Buffy rolled over and off the bed, landing in a crouch and heading for the bathroom to rinse out her eyes a little. When she returned to her bed, slightly more awake, Anya was still there. "What's going on?"

"The Initiative! They're here, and they're going to take me to their lab and do unspeakable things to me! I'm sure of it!"

Buffy sighed wearily. "Anya, I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about. Why don't you go to Giles?"

She scowled. "He has to work with them. I can't associate with him right now. But you're an unobtrusive and an easily ignored child! They won't look here!"

"Let her stay, B," said a sleepy voice from the next bed. "If anything, it'll mean that we can actually get some more sleep instead of arguing about this."

Anya smiled brightly. "Excellent! I'll take your bed, and you can share with your girlfriend. You can even have sex while I'm here! I'm very uninhibited," she assured them. Her expression took on a contemplative air. "Oh, and if you betray my location to the Initiative, I'll curse you with unending suffering for your eternal lives. Good night!" she finished cheerily.

Buffy stared at her for a long moment before deciding that it wasn't worth it to ask and crawling into Faith's bed beside her. A nimble hand moved down Buffy's back to squeeze her ass, and she rolled her eyes and removed it, peeking over at her friend. Faith was already fast asleep, a smile on her face.

* * *

Xander doodled patterns into the palm of his hand with a blue ink pen as Willow went on and on about some particular species of demon who stripped the skin from people's bodies. They had an exam the next day, but honestly, Xander couldn't care less about that. His mind was on a vampire he'd tried to take on the previous day with Jesse. It had been older than any of the other vampires he'd fought and had left him with a particularly nasty gash down the side of his leg all the way to his foot, and it had still pursued them until they'd made it back into a more lighted, public area on the other side of town. _Damn_. He'd go back after it tonight, and this time, he'd manage to stake it.

"…And the poison can immobilize a victim," Willow was explaining. Buffy, bless her, looked almost as bored as he felt. Tara was listening with rapt attention, and Oz was watching Willow intently as she spoke. Surprisingly, Jesse was also paying full attention to Willow's speech, but lately, since they'd finally mended the bridges broken by Jesse's involvement with Cordelia, Jesse and Willow had been pretty close, careful not to set each other off in even the smallest of ways. Jesse had even refused to go demon-hunting with Xander a few nights ago, when Willow had heard what they were doing and expressed her disapproval. Xander had been too glad that they'd worked things out to care. Much.

"Hey, guys. Watcha doing?" Faith entered the watchers' lounge and sauntered over to them, her eyes on Buffy alone.

"Studying," Willow said coolly. She looked as though she was going to say more, but then she glanced over at Buffy and thought better of it.

"Cool," Faith said nonchalantly, plopping herself down on the couch between Buffy and Xander. "Don't mind me."

Buffy grinned. "Needed to get away from An…the room for a while?"

"God, yes!" Faith muttered, and they both laughed.

Willow looked severely annoyed. "Can we get back to the Gnarl now?"

Faith waved a hand carelessly. "Don't mind me, keep on doing whatever you're doing." She leaned back, stretched her hands behind her head and arched her back, thrusting her breasts forward as she did. Xander fought to tear his eyes away from them. _Doodling. Is what I was doing. Right. _He traced his lifeline again, a knuckle brushing Faith's side as he did.

She turned to look at him, more relaxed than he'd seen her in a long time, and with a teasing smirk, she took his hand in hers and snatched a black pen from Buffy's hand. Soon, she was sketching elaborate patterns on his hand with her pen, a slight smile tugging at the corners of her lips as she drew in a nasty-looking vampire on his index finger and a slayer who looked vaguely like her on his next finger, a stake pointed at the vampire's heart. She finished and looked at him expectantly.

He grinned and gave her his other hand, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation of her fingers moving over and squeezing his hand, the pen tickling at his palm, the scent of Faith's shampoo as she bent over him…

"A-_hem_!" Xander opened his eyes. Willow was glaring at them. "I think we're done with the group study now, don't you?"

"Yeah, it's getting late," Jesse agreed, oblivious to Willow's irritation.

"Come on, Oz," Willow ordered, and the boy dutifully followed her out, shrugging at the rest of them as he did.

"What's gotten her so bad-moody?" Buffy wondered, casting a furtive look at Faith. She knew, of course. They all knew, but no one was going to express it, especially not Xander.

Faith snorted, unimpressed by their silence. "Yeah, okay, I'll just get out of here so you can go chase back your study god."

Xander shook his head. "Stay here," he said without thinking, flushing when they all looked at him. "I mean…she's not going to come back, anyway. You might as well…"

"No." Faith got up quickly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm not gonna-" She miscalculated her step, a foot crashing down on his injured one, and he let out a hiss of pain.

"Xander?" Tara said worriedly. "Is there something wrong with your-"

"Oh, damn, did I hurt you?" Faith bent down to his leg.

He tried to turn her away. "No, don't-"

But she'd already lifted up the side of his pants and gasped at the wicked-looking cut that marked his leg. "Xander!" She looked up at him with sudden concern. "Who did this to you?"

Xander tried to shrug casually. "There was a vampire. No biggie."

"A vampire?" Buffy leaned forward worriedly. "One of ours?"

Xander shook his head. "In the cemetery last night. It's fine, we took care of it." A lie, but the slayers didn't have to know that. Jesse rolled his eyes at him knowingly.

"You _took care of it_?" Faith repeated skeptically. "Why the hell were you in a cemetery at night to begin with?"

"Why does anyone go to cemeteries?" Jesse asked, preening. "We were hunting vampires."

Buffy stared at them. "Are you two idiots?" she asked finally.

"Clearly," Faith muttered, her hands still on Xander's leg. She prodded at the bruise and he stifled a growl of pain. Silently, Tara moved over to join Faith on the floor and began murmuring a spell.

Jesse gave them a dirty look. "That's right, we're not like you, so of _course_ we can't hurt vampires. We need a big, strong slayer to fight our battles for us," he said in a horrible mockery of a female voice.

"We're _trained_ for this!" Buffy said, exasperated. "And we still don't fight vampires outside of the game floor!"

"No, you spend all your days fighting the one vampire in the world who has a reputation for killing your kind," Xander pointed out. "How's that for taunting a sleeping dragon?"

"Yeah, and she's being watched the whole time," Faith argued from her vantage point beside Xander's legs. Tara was working her magic on the left one, slowly healing the bloody mess. "Spike's electrocuted if he gets too close." At that, Tara and Buffy shared a furtive glance so rife with meaning that Xander couldn't help but wonder what had triggered it.

Xander shrugged, unable to come up with a satisfactory retort. "Yeah, well, it's not the same," he muttered.

Faith gave him a dirty look. "You really are a moron," she said, and rose in one graceful move. "I'm outta here. Coming, B?"

Buffy nodded unsmilingly, and followed her out. Tara put the finishing touches to Xander's injury and headed off in the direction of her room, shooting Xander and Jesse one last disapproving glance as she left.

The boys looked at each other for a long moment before Xander finally said, "Want to go check out Holy Angels Cemetery tonight?"

Jesse shrugged. "Yeah, okay."

* * *

Buffy's first clue that something was wrong was when she and Faith joined the other slayers for basic training the next day. Faith and Buffy had never been the most popular of duos in the school, but people had always seemed to like Buffy, at least, and the other slayers were always cordial. But today, when she walked into the training room, she was greeted by nine stony faces, all directed at her.

Faith frowned around. "Is there something in my teeth?" she wondered.

"Not you, Slut-o-rama." Cordy stepped forward, her arms folded and her eyes cold. "Buffy."

Buffy stared at them. "What?"

"We've had enough of your little watcherfest, and we're taking action," Cordy announced. "If you want to be a watcher, fine. But you're not one of us anymore." Behind her, the other slayers nodded obediently. None looked very friendly.

"Excuse me?" But then Gunn was hurrying in and ordering them to split up into groups of two for the class, and Buffy couldn't demand details. Whatever Cordy was up to couldn't be good, especially not when she'd gotten everyone else to work with her.

"Faith, wanna team up?" Kennedy asked, slipping over to them.

Faith looked taken aback. "Are you kidding? I'm with Buffy."

"No, that's a good idea," Gunn decided. "Let's mix it up a little today. Faith, Kennedy, you two are together. Everyone find a different partner."

Cordy and Colleen paired up, as did Molly and Rona, Annabelle and Eve, and Chloe and Caridad, and it came as a surprise to no one when Buffy was left alone.

"Group of three?" Gunn asked. No one stepped forward. Cordy even shook her head and sniffed, "No one's going to work with her."

Gunn frowned. "What's this about?"

"Watcher wannabe," Eve muttered. The other slayers laughed. Buffy stood alone.

Gunn looked around. "Come on, girls. Someone's got to take Buffy." Faith opened her mouth, and Gunn added, "Except you, Faith." Faith closed her mouth, shooting Buffy a sympathetic look.

"I can just work alone," Buffy mumbled, fighting back her own humiliation and frustration. She didn't care much for the other slayers, and their recent bullying never really bothered her, but in front of Gunn, whose opinions she actually respected and cared about, this was a little too much to bear.

Gunn gave her a sharp look. "No, you can't. And I want someone to tell me exactly what is going on here!"

The other girls stayed silent, self-satisfied smirks gracing each face. Faith glared at them all. Buffy just looked away.

"I'll do it," said a voice from the back of the room. "Training exercises, right?" The slayer slid into the room to regard them all with cool eyes. "Sounds like fun."

Buffy stared at her disbelievingly. "But…you're the slayer."

She shrugged. "Call me Narra."

"B-Buffy."

"Narra, you sure?" Gunn asked, raising an eyebrow. "This'll be a walk in the park for you."

Narra nodded. "Practice is always good. And I'm doing the Cruciamentum tomorrow, so the more time I spend not getting injured, the better."

Gunn laughed. "I see your point." He cast one last worried look at the potentials' cold faces and began the class. Today, they were practicing with quarterstaffs, which they hadn't used in a while, and Buffy cursed her luck at having been put up against the _slayer_ with a weapon she'd never mastered.

But Narra still seemed vaguely impressed. "You're not bad at this," she commented, swinging lightly to cross her weapon with Buffy's.

"I'm not good at this, either," Buffy pointed out, dodging a second strike to aim directly for Narra's heart.

Narra shook her head. "No one's good with quarterstaffs," she observed wryly. "But you handle yourself well."

"Thanks." Buffy swung with all her strength, and Narra blocked her with a single arm. "I fight a lot."

"With Spike." Narra used her staff to trip Buffy, and Buffy flipped backwards and rose in a single move. "I remember."

"Yeah. Um…are you fighting him tomorrow?" Narra's next blow was unexpectedly high and connected with Buffy's side, sending her staggering backwards. "For your Cruciathingy?" Willow had explained the whole thing to Buffy yesterday, but she'd lost interest somewhere between the ninth and nineteenth century and spent the rest of the time visualizing her next fight with Spike.

"Yep." Narra took a defensive position. "How old are you?"

"I'll be sixteen next month."

"And you're fighting Spike daily?" Narra asked incredulously.

Buffy feinted upward and used the lower half of her quarterstaff to smash into Narra's knees. "We work well together."

"I noticed." Buffy looked at Narra anxiously, but the older girl just nodded almost approvingly. "I never fought him as a potential, but I did watch his battles sometimes. He teaches, he toys with the slayers…but I've never seen him dance before yesterday." She smiled, and Buffy was suddenly sure that that was a rare expression on her. "It was impressive."

"It's not like that," Buffy murmured, her cheeks suddenly very hot. "He's just a vampire."

"And you're just a potential slayer. And I'm just a slayer." Narra flipped her weapon to stand it parallel to her, cane-style. "It doesn't mean that we can't make a difference in each other's lives. If Spike is what's making you a good fighter, see him as a teacher, not the enemy. He's not the enemy unless if he's killing."

"That's not what we learn in school." Buffy managed to land another blow before Narra began her defense.

"No, it isn't, is it?" Narra took a step forward. "But when you're out there fighting, there are a lot of moral grey areas you come up against. And there's no time to worry about it."

"What's it like?" Buffy ventured. "Knowing that you're…that you'll…"

"Die?" Narra finished. Buffy nodded. Narra was quiet for a moment. "Everyone dies. But at least I know that I'm _right_."

"Right?"

Narra swung her staff with almost blinding speed, and Buffy barely blocked it. "Complete. That I've spent my life doing what I'm meant to be doing, and I'm dying because of it. And yeah, sometimes I'm fighting and I'm terrified, and I know that it might be the end, but then I remember that this is my destiny, and I'll die with no regrets, nothing left undone. It'll just be the end of a successful mission."

Buffy shook her head. "But- but what about the last slayer? The one who only lasted three days?"

Narra was suddenly somber. "She did it, didn't she? She went down in battle, dying for the only thing worth dying for." She paused. "And there's a part of me that envies her for it." She dropped her staff to the ground.

Buffy followed her lead, letting her weapon drop, too. "What do you mean?"

Narra's gaze took on a wistful cast. "Fighting's hard, Buffy. It's years and years of long, empty battles and nothing that matters beyond keeping evil at bay. And even that is pretty much impossible…" She sighed. "Death…for slayers, it's also freedom. And maybe Beatriz was too new to fully appreciate that, but she would have soon enough."

"Spike once told me that every slayer has a death wish." Buffy remembered that fight clearly. She'd asked him how he'd defeated his three slayers, and that cryptic comment had been all he'd given her- well, that and an almost pitying look that she'd proceeded to punch off his face.

"He's right." Narra fell silent, and they finished their sparring in thoughtful quietude. When Gunn finally called the end of the class, Buffy dropped her staff and gave Narra a genuine smile. "Thank you. Good luck tomorrow."

"Thanks. And Buffy?"

Buffy turned from where she'd been heading toward the showers.

Narra gave her another small smile. "Keep fighting Spike. He's good for you."


	29. Chapter 29

"Hey." Buffy sat down beside Rona, rolling her eyes when Rona scooted away. "Or…not hey, apparently I have a communicable disease."

"Shh!" The hiss came from the first bleacher, somewhere within the contingent of Spike groupies assembled there. They all hated Buffy on principle- or were possibly just really, really jealous of her- and she was getting more than a few dirty looks from them at interrupting the fight.

But when she glanced at the fight that was already in progress, Spike was grinning up at her. Unfortunately, he'd been getting soft from fighting nonpowered slayers, and Narra took advantage of his distraction to slam him across the room and to the ground. His nose was dripping blood when he jumped back up, bouncing on the balls of his feet with sudden glee at the challenge.

Narra was also smirking. This was the last battle of her Cruciamentum, and it looked like she had it in the bag, if she could defeat Spike- or at least come out of it alive. And Buffy was sure that Narra, too, was rarely challenged, even on the Hellmouth, and not by someone as fun to fight as Spike.

The battle raged on, and now Spike's focus was completely on his opponent, and he didn't spare Buffy another glance. She bit her lip, remembering her vow not to let him get to her anymore, and tried to watch without becoming invested. Vampire and slayer, locked in a fight to the death, and the slayer had to win. That was all. And before long, she was grinning when Narra got in a good hit and every time Spike went down, enjoying the fact that he'd finally found an opponent he couldn't easily defeat.

But Spike was still the Slayer of Slayers, and Narra had only been slayer for a year, so eventually, a battered Spike managed to knock her to the ground, landing on top of her and lowering his head to her neck. For an instant, he glanced up and his eyes connected with Buffy's, almost as if… _Was he asking permission?_ No, that was absurd. Spike would never do that. But there was apology in his eyes, and Gunn was watching with regret and Travers looked gleeful, and Buffy suddenly understood that this wasn't just a game. This was life and death, and Narra's life was on the balance, and Spike was going to take it.  
_  
No. No, he wouldn't! He couldn't!  
_  
He saw the sheer terror in her eyes and his own softened, just as Narra grasped the stake that had rolled away from her and shoved it into his heart. He cried out in surprise, falling away from her, and Buffy stood, all thoughts of keeping herself from caring about him gone the moment she saw him slumped over on the ground.

"Spike!" She jumped over the side of the bleachers and ran toward him, aching with shared pain at seeing him like this. _Not Spike. Never Spike._ He was indestructible, invincible, and he was never, ever injured on the game floor.

"Stop." Then Giles was suddenly in front of her, blocking her path to Spike. "Not now."

She looked up at him, wild-eyed, but he remained firm. "Stay here, Buffy," he warned her. "I need you to show me that I can trust you around Spike."

She nodded jerkily, staring at Spike as he was dragged upward by a special ops watcher with sudden dismay. Weren't they even going to remove the stake? But no, he was practically being dragged out of the room while everyone else focused on a victorious Narra, the watcher uncaring of his injury and the way he could barely stand, and only the Spike groupies were watching with angry murmurs at Spike's mistreatment.

"This is the power of a slayer!" Gunn said loudly, and the room fell silent. "A skilled, trained slayer can take down even William the Bloody!"

Narra was being escorted out of the room by Gates and Miller as Gunn continued extolling the virtues of the slayer, and Buffy took a step toward them. Narra stopped. "Buffy."

Buffy moved to follow her. "What?" she asked, perhaps more coldly than she ordinarily would. But Narra had just left her mentor and friend bloodied on the floor, and Buffy wasn't ready to let it go.

Narra turned her head to face Buffy, lolling a little as she did. "You…you make him weak," she said finally. "I see that now. But don't ever forget that one of us was going to die in that room. One of us will always die when you're the slayer."

Buffy watched her blankly. "I know," she whispered. "But not like this."

"Maybe not," Narra acknowledged, staggering through the doorway into the hall. Buffy followed her. "But it could be. And you can't falter." She shook her head. "Not even for him."

Then Miller and Gates were taking her down the right-hand hallway and Giles and Travers were hurrying after them, so Buffy slipped down the left-hand side to move around to the exit door for the vampires in the training room. Spike was leaving a trail of blood and moving slowly, and she finally caught up to him and the special ops watcher at the end of the hall. "Spike!"

He turned to smile weakly at her. "'Lo, kitten. Have fun watching my glorious defeat?"

She shook her head. "You need to pay more attention when you fight, instead of showing off for the groupies," she informed him. "Narra never would have beaten you otherwise."

"You can't be here," the special ops watcher said. He was one of the newer ones, still easily intimidated, and Buffy and Spike ignored him.

Spike laid a hand on her shoulder, and she backed him against the wall, steadying him. "Was only showing off for one groupie, love," he told her, flashing her a smirk.

She flushed. "I'm not a groupie." The stake wasn't in that deep, she noted with relief, and she tugged at it gently.

The watcher stared at them with alarm. "Hey! Don't touch-"

"Quiet," Buffy ordered, and yanked out the stake in one quick movement.

"Agh!" He flinched, and she laid a hand against his chest calmingly. "Trying to kill me?" he demanded with little rancor, his chest heaving from the sharp pain. She splayed another hand against it, feeling hard muscles just below his black outfit, moving back and forth against her hands as he breathed in unnecessary breaths. Slowly, he stopped panting, the pain escaping his face as he relaxed. He gazed down at her with a gentle fondness, and she gave him an uncertain smile as he drew closer, reaching out a hand to tuck a lock of hair behind one of her ears.

She swayed forward, almost dizzy from his nearness, all thoughts of avoiding him gone from her mind and her only coherent thought _Spikespikespikespikespike_!. His lips tickled her ear as he bent to whisper in it, "Sure you're not…" The watcher cleared his throat loudly, waving his electrocution device feebly. Buffy barely noticed. Spike's breath was sending cool air down her neck, and she felt herself moving closer and closer toward him unconsciously, shivering. "…One of my groupies?" Spike finished, leaning back with a satisfied expression on his face.

She blushed furiously and smacked his chest, making him groan with pain again. "Shut up, you. You wish. Go get some rest and heal up so I can kick your ass."

He snorted. "And somehow, I really, really doubt it."

"Okay, that's enough." The watcher stepped forward again, looking nervous but defiant. "You. Step away from the vampire or I'll shock him."

Buffy gave him a dirty look. "Don't even think about it." But she turned to leave anyway, unwilling to let Spike be hurt because of her again. He wasn't in as bad shape as she'd initially thought, anyway, and she was sure he'd be better in a day or two and ready to fight.

That was, if Giles would let her anywhere near him anymore. And somehow, she doubted he would.

* * *

Maggie Walsh proved to be trouble almost immediately, just as Giles had suspected. It had been one thing when she'd demanded some of Gunn's most experienced assistants as additional security over the vampires she was commissioning. He hadn't liked that, but he'd taken it in stride, seeing as she _did_ need security and it had sounded reasonable at the time. But now she was pulling away master vampires for her experiments, insisting that they were far more effective for research than the younger vampires, and leaving them recovering for days afterward.

The shortage of vampires was taking its toll on the potentials, but when he'd complained to Travers, the man had given him a nasty smile and told him that Walsh's work was far more important than Giles having a "wide selection of vampires to choose from." Giles had thought about pointing out that Travers was allowing his dislike for him to influence the fate of their slayers, but he reconsidered at the look on Travers's face. The man was out for blood, and Giles was fairly certain that it would be his own.

So now, nearly a week after Narra's Cruciamentum, they were standing at Giles's office window, watching as the senior potentials and a few of the younger ones sparred with each other on the lawn, their pants and shouts coming out with little bursts of steam in the cold December air. "Ready to head back to Sunnydale?"

Narra shrugged. "Not really. But the Hellmouth needs a protector." She sighed. "Any chance there's a Hellmouth in Hawaii?"

Giles laughed shortly. "Not in decades," he said apologetically. "But we'll get you back to England sometime soon, and not for a battle to the death. Even slayers need vacations."

"Don't let Travers hear you say that." Narra gazed down at the slayers below them, her eyes following Kennedy as she slammed a fist into Buffy's face. Several of the other slayers stopped what they were doing to high-five Kennedy. "They really don't like her, do they?"

Giles shook his head regretfully. "Buffy's at the top of her class, and one of our most promising potentials, but the bullying has only gotten this dreadful of late. Miss Calendar informs me that she's been spending time with her grade's watchers instead of with the other potentials, and her peers don't appreciate it."

Narra frowned. "That girl really is unusual, isn't she?"

"One thing I've learned, being headmaster this long…" Giles smiled contemplatively. "Every student is unusual."

"I wasn't," Narra pointed out. "I was standard, by the book, your classic potential. I wasn't making friends with watchers and vampires."

"You hated fighting," Giles reminded her. "I don't think we've ever had a student who spent as much time attempting to avoid the training room as you did. You were quite skilled, but despised going up against the vampires."

"I grew up the daughter of two naturalists." Narra watched as one of the oldest potentials performed a sophisticated maneuver around one of the youngest, taunting her as she did. "To me, vampires were just dangerous animals, and injuring them for the sake of my personal training was inhumane. I couldn't do it."

"And now?"

"I changed." She turned to face him, her eyes suddenly serious. "And Buffy will, too, and keeping her from fighting Spike will only make her weaker if her time comes."

Giles frowned. "You saw them together. You know how dangerous a relationship like that can be."

"On both sides," Narra said quietly. "Spike is just as concerned about her as she is him. They distract each other, make each other fight worse when they're not fighting together. I'd be dead right now if Buffy hadn't have been there the other day."

"You wouldn't have," Giles murmured. "No one dies in the Cruciamentum, regardless of how determined Travers is to force the potentials to watch a slayer's death. He hasn't succeeded yet, and he'll never get the chance."

"Maybe not," Narra acknowledged. "But regardless of all that, the changes between those two aren't all negative. And Buffy fights better now because of him." She exhaled slowly. "If I d- If Buffy is called someday, you want her to fight at her best. And I guarantee that she'll change just as I was forced to when put in that situation, Spike or not. Don't handicap her by taking him away."

Giles shook his head. "It's not that simple."

"It can be." Below them, Buffy and Faith were fending off half their year's potentials on their own, laughing. Narra watched almost wistfully. "If Buffy is called, she might just be the greatest slayer ever. And as long as Spike is kept in the Academy, he'll never pose a problem."

Giles thought back to darker days, when being at the Academy wasn't a guarantee of potentials' safety, but he quashed his worries to offer Narra a soft smile. "I'll consider it. Take care of yourself, Narra. Be well."

They said their farewells before one of Travers's cronies arrived to whisk her away, and Giles was left alone to ponder her words and the strange little potential who'd become the hottest topic of debate in the school over the past few months.

She was so young, and it would be a shame to crush her hopes…but was it worth it, when the end result could be so much more harmful?

No, he decided. Buffy was strong, and Spike was the most reliable of a series of unreliable vampires. He wouldn't overstep his boundaries, and Giles had to believe that Buffy wouldn't, either.

But he'd be keeping a careful eye on both from now on.


	30. Chapter 30

I'm sorry about the delay- I've been away from the Internet and this site was the only one I couldn't update by phone on Saturday night. Someone asked about updates- they're on Wednesday morning and Saturday night, though that's not an exact science. Sometime around that. :) This update might be a little dicey, since I'll be traveling Wednesday, but I'll try to have one up for you regardless!

* * *

Spike watched her fly to him, a whirling tornado of deadly action, and met her midway, the laughter in her eyes warming him even as he sent her crashing back across the room. She got back up, shaking her head with a sort of confused air, and he awaited her return with patience. Granted, he could have taken the offensive, but Buffy was at her best when she was attacking, and there was nothing he enjoyed observing more.

She darted back toward him, her eyes now glittering with warning and determination, and he met her blow with one of his own, intending to send her into retreat again. Instead, she ducked and smashed her head into his chest, propelling him backward into the wall and momentarily dazing him.

"See?" she said triumphantly. "You're not nearly as invincible as you think you are!" She jumped onto him, legs bent on either side of him, and slid them down to the ground together. He moved to throw her off of him, an easy move that would end this match in moments, feeling a twinge of regret because of it. But Buffy tended to let her guard down when she thought she was about to win, and Spike had to capitalize on that overconfidence, or she'd never learn.

But then, directing him an almost shy glance tinged with mischief, she suddenly ground downward into his hard cock, and he fell backward again, letting out a strangled groan. The scent of her arousal permeated the air around them until he was drunk in it, utterly, completely lost to anything but Buffy, hovering just above him…touching her stake to his chest. "I win," she breathed, and his hands, unbidden, reached to her hips, to settle there securely.

"Hm?" His own hips jerked upward, making them both gasp together.

"I-I win," she repeated, her chest heaving with short, gulping breaths that automatically drew his eyes to her beasts, to the little nipples hard under her tight black jumpsuit, so close that he wanted nothing more than to take them into his mouth and…

"Buffy wins!" Gunn announced, and the bleachers exploded in cheering and shouts of congratulations.

Buffy jerked away from him, her face pale and her eyes very wide. "Oh." She didn't sound very excited about it, and he knew why.

"You cheated," he accused, but there was a smile on his face that he couldn't quite wipe off, not with Buffy still so close and on top of him.

She flushed, looking away from him. "I used whatever weapons I had."

"I didn't think you had it in you," he noted, not without an element of admiration in his voice. "You minx, you."

Now her face was so red that he'd actually fallen back into a bloodlust he hadn't felt in years, watching as more and more of it rose to her cheeks. "I'm not-"

"You are!" he crowed, delighted. "You're not little innocent Buffy anymore, are you?"

Her eyes narrowed, and in hindsight, that probably should have been his warning. But he plowed on, too distracted by this delicious turn of events. "You're not even sixteen yet, and you're already becoming a woman! I wonder, how long before-"

The fist that came crashing into his face was unprecedented, if not unwarranted, but the force behind it and his failure to defend himself led to more pain than Buffy had ever inflicted on him in one sitting. He howled in agony, rubbing at his now bloody, possibly misshapen nose to stave off the sharp pain.

"Pig," Buffy said primly as she rose, but she did reach down to help him up, touching his nose with the barest sliver of concern. "You'll live," she informed him. "Or…unlive. Whatever."

"Bitch," he mumbled, but past the pain, he couldn't help but bask in this side of Buffy he'd never seen before. Past the gentleness and innocence, the hellcat had always lurked; but never had she proven to be so…tantalizing, a sexual creature instead of just the girl he affectionately thought of as student.

Oh, he liked it. He liked it a lot.

She tugged on him with the hand she still had clasped in hers and pulled him over to Gunn, studiously avoiding his admiring gaze. He smirked. Gunn looked almost relieved. "Nice work, Buffy. I'd like to see you fight some of the other master vampires after winter break so we can have a better comparison as to where you're holding."

"What?" Buffy stared at Gunn, her consternation mirroring Spike's own. He'd just begun to unravel the hidden depths of Buffy the Potential, and he wasn't going to let her go now! "But I'm not done with Spike yet! What if this was just a fluke?"

"If you two had your way, you'd never be done with each other," Gunn muttered, too low for human ears to pick up. Aloud, he said, "I'm not saying you'll never get to fight him again. But if you're good enough to beat Spike, there are other vamps with other styles that you need to adapt to. Spike's good, but he's not the best."

Spike's head shot up. "Oi!"

Gunn raised an eyebrow. "You're in here, aren't you?"

"Wanker," Spike muttered, glancing over at Buffy. She was staring at him with wide, sorrowful eyes, and he stroked her palm with the pad of his thumb reassuringly. "We'll need to fight again," he reminded her. "You can't say that you beat me in a fair fight just yet."

That elicited a snort from her. "You wish!" she retorted, turning on her heel to stalk away haughtily. But she turned back to him moments later, abandoning all pretenses of anger in favor of giving him one last longing gaze.

His eyes met hers and they locked, and Spike didn't look away from her until Weatherby managed to yank him through the back door and out of the training room. 

* * *

They all met at the pizza shop down the road the day before their last final to study together, though Oz doubted that much studying was going to happen with the whole group present. Xander and Jesse were already taking bets as to how much pizza they could devour in one sitting while Willow listened disapprovingly; and Buffy was staring into space, lost in a daydream. Tara sat silently, listening to them talk and trying to hide the flush that rose up her face every time she glanced at Willow. Oz frowned vaguely. He was pretty sure that he wasn't in danger of losing Willow to the other girl, but the whole situation made him uneasy. Willow and Tara shared magic together, and regardless of how he felt about it, that was something that he'd never be able to touch.

He pushed his worries aside. Willow wasn't even aware that Tara was in love with her, and Tara was far too tentative to make the first move. He loved Willow more than anything, and he knew that she loved him back. There was no point in dwelling on the Tara problem.

"Oh, look." The sharp voice that intruded on their table's pleasant atmosphere was neither wanted nor unexpected, and Oz could hear Buffy heave a sigh before she turned to face the other girl, opening her mouth to respond.

Jesse stood up before Buffy could say a word. "Listen, Cordelia, I know how much energy it takes for you to come up with a witty comment, and you're not going to be able to make it down the block if you try it, so why don't you save us all some grief and lay off?" He curled his lip in distaste, ignoring the stunned silence of everyone else at the table. Oz shrugged. _Huh._

Cordy glared at him. "Listen, _Jesse_, are you sure you're allowed to be out now? Shouldn't you be off in some watcherly corner looking at nude photos of Chaos demons or whatever gets you freaks off?" A girl behind her snickered, and she snapped, "Shut up, Colleen."

"It could be worse," Jesse shot back. "They could be of _you_."

Cordy tossed her hair scornfully. "Go to hell, Jesse," she snapped, and stalked to the door of the shop, slamming it open and nearly knocking off Colleen's nose in the process. The girl squeaked and followed Cordelia out of the room.

They all stared at Jesse. He glared at the table, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles were nearly white.

"So, uh, bad breakup?" Buffy finally ventured.

Willow bit her lip. "It's because of me, isn't it?"

Jesse shrugged, his fists still clenched. "You were right, Will. She was out of line, and I called her on it. She didn't like it, so I broke up with her. I dumped Cordelia Chase," he repeated, sounding almost dazed at the thought of it.

Buffy glanced from Willow to Jesse and then back questioningly. Willow shook her head. "Don't worry about it, Buffy. We couldn't let Cordy keep up the attack on you. You're our friend."

Buffy was momentarily speechless, and Oz understood. There weren't many people- especially among the slayers- in a school as devoted to competition as the Academy who would take care of their own like that. Willow was special, and she brought that to her friends, too. And for that, he loved her just a little bit more, if that was even possible.

He squeezed her hand under the table and she gave him a soft smile. "Time to study," she decided, and then it was all business within the underlying warmth of friendship.

* * *

_He crept through the cemetery, his eyes alert and his hand clutching a stake._

She crept through the basement, her eyes alert and her hand clutching the charm.

He found his quarry moments later, and then it was all a blur.

She found her target moments later, and then it was all a blur.  
  
The vampire charged at him, and Xander dodged, jumped a tombstone and moved until he was facing his opponent, stake raised in one hand, cross outstretched in the other. The vampire reared backward at the sight of it, stupid little eyes squinting at the holy object, perplexed as to why it had triggered such a strong, visceral reaction from him.

"You're new to the whole vampire thing, huh?" Xander noted, hurling the cross at the vamp. He'd tangled it around his wrist, so it didn't go far, just hit the demon and made him howl in pain before bouncing back to Xander. Xander took advantage of the vampire's distraction to hurl himself in the direction of its chest, stake ready and aimed.

The vampire returned to himself just in time to catch the stake and draw Xander to him, sinking his teeth toward Xander's neck. Xander shoved the stake into the creature's heart, turning, him to dust just as his fangs broke through Xander's skin.

He brushed off the dust on his shoulder and pressed two fingers to the wound before it could start bleeding. The bites never fazed him, no matter how often they happened or how close the call was. This was far from his first fight, after all.  
_  
He barely remembered it afterward, so caught up in the moment._

She barely remembered it afterward, so caught up in the moment.  
  
She shivered against Angelus's knuckles as he brushed her hair from her face, her eyes locked on his. "All mine," he breathed. "Do you know what I want you to do today, Faith?"

She shook her head slightly, trying not to look away from him. When she did, she could see Spike's distaste, Webs's hunger, Drusilla's glee, Darla's seething jealousy, Robin's curiosity. She _needed_ it to be just the two of them there, no one else. No one watching.

"I want you to pleasure yourself while I watch," Angelus purred. "Do as I tell you to your body, and I'll do the same."

She followed his instructions obediently until he was worked up to a frenzy and she was at the edge, until they both tumbled down together and there was nothing in the world that mattered as much as him, and her, and what they became when they were together.

She didn't leave Angelus's side for a long, long time.  
_  
And in the end, all there was was the rush, and he was finally free._

And in the end, all there was was the rush, and she was finally free.  
  
She'd been sitting on the steps leading up to her dorm, recovering from the dazed euphoria that tended to mark her visits with Angelus when Xander Harris blew into the stairwell, flushed with exhilaration. She gave him a dirty look. "Oh. You."

Xander winced. "Hey, Faith." He quickly shrugged on his jacket, but he was a moment too late, and her sharp eyes caught sight of the two little dots on his neck before he could cover them.

She jumped up, the last vestiges of ecstasy gone and replaced with fury and horror. "What the hell, Harris? You a vampire?"

But no, he was holding a cross in his hand, and his face was wrinkled only with guilt. "I staked one, that's all."

"You were seconds away from becoming vamp chow!" she snapped, moving closer to examine the bite. "Look, I don't know what your issue is, but you need to cut out this insane slayer wannabe shit or you're going to be dead before you figure it out. Vampires are _dangerous_. They can _kill you_." She enunciated each word like he was an idiot, and at this point, she was positive that he was. "You need to _stay away from them_."

Xander shrugged her off his shoulder, forcing her to look up at him. "Faith, I-" He stopped suddenly, and she was struck by how close they were now, their faces just inches away from each other. "I…"

She chewed on her lip nervously, unwilling to look away and end this. Those warm brown eyes were defiant and confused and lost all at once, and her gaze was caught in his, in the reflection of herself she could see in his eyes. "You're going to get yourself into trouble," she whispered. "I don't want-" She stopped, a moment too late.

But Xander didn't pounce on her admission, just gave her a soft smile and murmured, "Thank you."

They tore apart almost reluctantly, and Faith shakily made her way up the stairs, feeling Xander's presence just behind her. She could feel him watching her as she headed to her room, and only once she opened the door did she turn back to meet his gaze, to try to make sure that he wasn't going to go out to the cemetery to tempt fate again.

But he was already gone.

_And they both retreated to sleep._


	31. Chapter 31

**Author's Notes:** I'm on a ship for the next two weeks, and Internet is spotty at best, so I can't guarantee regular updates. I will, however, try to update at least twice a week, though I can't say which days it'll be…and it might take me a while to respond to reviews, but I do receive and appreciate them all! Thank you!

* * *

"Anya?"

She was curled up at the head of the bed, half-hidden under their blanket and hugging a pillow close. Giles had never seen her this terrified, not even after he'd coaxed her back to his room weeks before, when the Initiative had first arrived. "Anya, what's wrong?" He slid into the bed behind her and she turned to let him wrap her into his embrace. She was shivering.

"Pain," she whispered, so low that he had to strain to hear it. "Oh, god, so much pain…"

His eyes narrowed, something dark and cold passing through them. "Who hurt you?"

"Not me." She burrowed into his chest, craving his proximity. "_Them_. The vampires…the ones that the Initiative has taken…they're crying out for vengeance, for help…" She shook her head. "And no one's going to stop it, are they? Are you?"

"You know I can't," Giles murmured, running a hand through her hair. "Travers will just get rid of me and put someone even worse on top. The Council is too dependent on the Initiative to shut them down." He sighed. "And I'm afraid that they won't care about what's being done to those they classify as demons. Not I!" he hurried to assure Anya when she stiffened in his arms. "If I had any power outside of the Academy, I'd never sanction the experimentation on demons. Especially not since I've met you."

Anya wept freely, and Giles could only watch helplessly, determinedly pushing thoughts of suffering vampires from his mind. It wasn't his job to argue with Travers, or initiate reform. He had hundreds of students counting on him to make them his primary focus, and they had to come first; before the vampires, before the Council's shaky morals…even before Anya.

* * *

The watchers and slayers had broken out into all-out war over the past few days. Even the watchers who didn't like Willow and Jesse much had rallied behind them, crying for slayer blood and egging on Jesse to lead their battles. Buffy secretly suspected that they just wanted a fight, and to be fair, Cordy and the other slayers had had it coming for a while. Unwilling to be put in the line of fire, Buffy tried to avoid the whole fight as much as possible, preferring to spend time alone- since Faith was still vanishing on a nightly basis- than within the vitriol being spewed from both sides.

Winter break couldn't come soon enough, but once it did, it passed far too quickly, and it was soon only a few days before the watchers would return. Cordy had taken all the slayers in their year except Buffy and Faith up to her parents' vacation home, and Buffy had celebrated her birthday in blissful silence. Giles had even called her up to his office to wish her a happy birthday and give her some surprising news.

"One of the vampires has expressed the desire to fight you," he had told her. "Now, we're not in the habit of granting requests of demons, but as she is William the Bloody's cellmate and is well acquainted with his techniques, I believe that it would be quite informative for you."

"Spike has a female cellmate?" had been all she could think of saying. "Um. I mean, okay."

So here she was, on the last day before classes began again, standing on the game floor and awaiting the arrival of the hopefully hideous woman who spent all her time with Spike. _It's probably Drusilla,_ she thought forlornly. _I really am just a diversion._

It wasn't Drusilla, but Buffy recognized the woman from Miss Chalmers's thesis as soon as she stalked into the room, her head held high and haughty and her eyes flashing with cobalt malice. _Darla_. The eldest of the Scourge of Europe, Angelus's sire, beautiful and dangerous and cruel.

"Hello, little Buffy," she purred. "I've heard so much about you."

Buffy relaxed her knees and slipped into a defensive pose. "I'm sure. Spike tell you about how I kicked his ass last time?"

Darla laughed, low, melodious, and almost unbearably cold. "William hides you like man's greatest treasure. But he's not the only one talking about you." She attacked in a flurry of moves so quick and agile that Buffy nearly fell backward in her defense. She didn't, though, so accustomed to fighting and opponent much stronger and quicker than she that she recovered immediately and went onto the offensive, duplicating Spike's most lethal swing-and-kick without a second thought. Her body knew the motions and the moves, and it didn't matter who she was fighting, or how, or what Darla was doing. She controlled the match, forcing the vampiress to follow her dance.

"I see what he likes about you. You're like a little Spike clone, aren't you?" Darla sneered, and charged forward almost blindly, disrupting the flow of the battle completely. It wouldn't have worked had she not been so much stronger than Buffy, but Buffy still managed to block the main attack by dropping to the ground and scissoring her legs around Darla's waist, sending her flying through midair.

"Funny," Buffy panted, hurtling toward her opponent with a stake in hand, "He's always said that I reminded him of _you_. And now I finally realize that that was an insult."

Darla's eyes darkened. "Bitch." And then she'd taken advantage of Buffy's certainty that she'd win and yanked her to the ground, touching teeth to neck before Buffy could reposition the stake. In a fair fight, in which Darla would have to actually sink her teeth into Buffy's neck to kill her, Buffy would have won, but on the game floor, Gunn was calling out "Game!" and Buffy had to roll away from Darla reluctantly.

Darla rose, wiping away a smear of blood on her neck and glaring at Buffy. "You make me sick. Slayers and vampires are never meant to mix," she growled. "You and your little friend would do well to remember that."

Buffy frowned. "My little-?"

For a moment, Darla's eyes flickered to the bleachers, where the only member of Buffy's audience was sitting. Then she was staring back at Buffy, her lip curling in distaste. "Pathetic," she proclaimed, and departed with one last glare and a smile so cruel that it sent shivers up Buffy's spine.

"Very impressive showing," Gunn said, smiling. "You lost only because of your own mistake, not because your opponent was stronger."

"Yeah, Spike always says that I let my guard down when I'm winning," Buffy admitted.

"Nice job, B!" Faith called out from her vantage point on the bleachers, and Buffy turned slowly to face her, Darla's words ringing in her mind.

She waited until they were out of the room before she finally asked, "What are you hiding, Faith?"

* * *

"What the _hell_, Faith?" Buffy paced up and down the hallway, furious and horrified. "You're…what? Dating an infamously evil vampire? And you think it's _okay_? Have you lost your mind?"

Faith rolled her eyes. "Oh, please. You gave up your right to oppose this when you started making moon eyes at Spike. And Angelus…he's good for me, okay? So lay off."

"I'm _not_ laying off!" Buffy shot back. "I know better than to start hanging out with Spike in the basement, surrounded by evil vampires _including my own_ and letting him sweet-talk me into a relationship! What are you thinking?"

"I'm thinking that I care about him. I'm in love with Angelus," Faith announced, and Buffy had to stare at her in dismay.

"You can't possibly believe that." She shook her head. "You need to tell someone. You're in way too deep, and-"

Faith put up a hand to cut her off. "Yeah, well, I'm happy now, for the first time in years. And I know that you prefer me miserable-"

"I never-"

"Come on, B!" Faith glared at her. "You're pretty much the only person in this whole damn school who can stand me. And yeah, I'm kinda dependent on you because of it, and you love that! You love having a friend-on-retainer to keep you busy when your precious Willow and Xander and Tara aren't around, and leave me on my own whenever you can! When do you ever spend time with me otherwise? Huh? I'm just_convenient_!"

Buffy shook her head vigorously. "I _try_, Faith! I invite you to hang out with us, but you always refuse! That's your choice, not mine!"

Faith narrowed her eyes. "Did it ever occur to you that I don't _want_ to hang out with them? I don't like Willow, remember? Or, for that matter, Xa…any of them! But instead of respecting that, you keep trying to pull me into that friendship, to force me into becoming 'one of the gang.'" She clenched her fists. "And now I've found something that's _mine_, that I need, and you're trying to take it away from me and leave me alone again." She squeezed her eyes shut. "You're going to ruin everything."

Buffy bit her lip, watching her friend's turmoil with a measure of guilt. Maybe she _had_been pushing the Willow thing a little too much. And she'd certainly neglected Faith when the other girl had snubbed her invitations, annoyed with her stubbornness. It had never occurred to her that anything other than jealousy was spurring Faith on.

But instead, Faith had seen it as rejection, and she'd driven her to Angelus. "Remember Kendra?" Buffy said softly. "Remember what Angelus did to her? He's a monster."

"He needs me," Faith retorted. "You don't understand. It's not…he wouldn't do that to me." She sighed. "Fine. Come with me, Buffy. I'll take you down there, and you'll see what Angelus is really like."

"Down to the basement?" Buffy repeated, and thoughts that she'd driven from her mind with worries for Faith returned with a sudden rush of excitement. "With the vampires?"

Faith grinned faintly, the anger and hurt still there, but carefully disguised. Now that Buffy knew about it, though, she could see right through Faith's facade. "I'm sure Spike will be happy to see you."

* * *

His eyes did light up when he caught sight of her, walking just behind Faith and glancing nervously from cage to cage at the other vampires, but then they darkened into a worry and fear that she'd never seen on his face before. "What are you doing here?" he demanded, tossing a sidelong glance at the cell next to his.

"Nice to see you, too," she said sarcastically, but it couldn't quite conceal the hurt she felt at his greeting. "Thank you for braving the watchers and vampires to come visit me, Buffy," she said in an atrocious British accent.

He laughed, warmth filling his eyes for a moment and sending a delightful shiver through her before the worry returned. "You shouldn't be here, pet. It isn't safe."

Darla snorted from somewhere to his right, and he turned to give her an annoyed glare. "You. You bitch, what did you do?"

Buffy bit back the sudden tears that threatened to emerge. "I thought you'd be happy to see me, you idiot." She punched at him through the bars, her tiny fist passing through with enough momentum to actually make it hurt. "And I didn't come here for you, anyway. Where's Angelus?"

"Stay away from him!" Spike growled, but she ignored him, turning to move next to her friend, who was staring at the cage beside Spike's with wide-eyed confusion.

"Faith?"

She shook her head. "He's…gone."

A woman emerged from behind a wall that covered half of the back of the cage, weaving from side to side with a strange, disconcerting grace. "He's gone, all gone, whisked away by tin soldiers." She wagged her fingers at them. "Bad, bad toys! And the dolly has brought another."

"Dru…" Spike growled warningly, moving to the corner of the cage closest to Buffy.

She dodged his grasping arm. "_This _is Drusilla?" she said doubtfully. Drusilla rarely fought on the game floor, and only against the oldest, most experienced students, so Buffy had never seen her before. Apparently, the rumors about her were true, though. "She's insane!"

"'Course she is," Spike said, a fond smile spreading across his face. Buffy turned away, glaring at _her_ vampire's sire and lover.

Drusilla moved to touch Buffy's cheek dreamily, and Buffy flinched. "I see the sunshine," she breathed. "It oughtn't be here, frightens my Spike so…" She smiled. "He fears that Daddy will take her away."

Spike said something through gritted teeth that Buffy didn't quite catch. Darla laughed, high-pitched and girlish and cruel. Buffy took a step forward, until she was nearly nose-to-nose with the crazy vampiress. "Like he took away Faith?" she asked, ignoring Faith's sigh. "What happens down here, Drusilla?"

But Drusilla just cackled and floated off, back behind the divider wall.

"She's not the weak link, _Buffy_," Darla drawled. "You want answers, ask your sweetie here."

Buffy glanced over at Spike, who was staring at her with an unreadable look on his face. Beside her, Faith still looked dazed, staring at the empty cage, and she made her decision. "Spike? What's Angelus doing to Faith?" She moved to stand in front of him, wrapping her hands around the bars of the cage.

He placed his own hands on hers, suddenly wary. "Doing?"

She met his gaze steadily. "You know what I mean. Is she…is it safe?"

He shot a sidelong look at Darla, then looked away from them both, toward Faith. "It's…" He paused before he continued in a stronger voice. "It's safe. Well, as safe as any vampire/human relationship."

She stared at him for a long time, trying to ascertain the truth or lie in his words, but his eyes were silent, more than they'd ever been before. Finally, she dropped her gaze, accepting his words. It might have been to her detriment, but she trusted Spike, and she knew that he wouldn't lie to her face. It wasn't in his nature.

She touched a hand to his cheek. "Thank you."

There might have been a hint of guilt in his eyes, but he brushed it aside too quickly to ascertain what it was, reaching out to stroke her hand. "S'been dull without you," he murmured, changing the subject abruptly. "I've been going stir-crazy in here lately."

"Me, too," Buffy admitted. "They made me fight fledglings. _Fledglings_!"

He laughed softly. "They didn't stand a chance, I'd wager."

"Of course not." She preened, moving her fingers to tangle them in his hair. "But it's so _boring_. I miss you," she whispered.

Darla choked. They ignored her. "I know," Spike said soothingly. "But don't come down here again, alright? It's too dangerous."

Buffy frowned. "For me, but not for Faith?"

Spike blinked. "Oh. Uh…"

"Dru gets so _very_ jealous of Spike's lady friends," Darla said suddenly. "I have no such compunctions when it comes to Angelus's."

"I'm sure," Spike said snidely, but he nodded in acquiescence. "I'm sorry, kitten."

Buffy looked away. "Yeah, whatever. It's not like I want to go sneaking around in a vampire lair, anyway," she muttered. "I'm just worried about Faith." The object of discussion was still standing silently in front of Angelus's cage, her eyes glazed over and her stance forlorn.

Spike squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, and she leaned into his arm, enjoying his nearness for whatever fleeting time it lasted. His hand moved up her shoulder, stroking against her neck before it finally reached her cheek, and she turned into it, let his fingers rest against her lips. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, Spike's hand at her lips and hers in his hair, their eyes locked and their faces soft, and even Darla didn't scoff and shatter the moment.

Finally, though, Faith jerked out of her stupor and turned to Buffy. "Come on, let's go." She took out the charm she'd used to take down the barriers. "Those scientist guys come out of their labs in a few minutes for dinner, and we'll bump into them if we stay down here and longer. You ready?"

_No_. "Yeah." She let her hand fall from Spike, and took a step back. "I'll see you around, Spike."

"See you," he echoed, and she could feel his eyes on her until she turned the corner away from his cage, her heartbeat quickening from the intensity she'd seen in his eyes.

* * *

"Well." Darla stretched elaborately, her eyes glittering with malice. "Looks like we have a Plan B if Project Faithie falls through."

Spike fought the urge to attack her. Instead, he forced himself to shrug nonchalantly. "Leave Buffy to me."

"You're getting soft," Darla said scornfully. "For a moment there, I thought you were going to warn her about her friend." She shook her head. "Never mind that, though. It's…illuminating…to see that you're still on our side."

"Yeah." He thought of Buffy's beseeching eyes, of the way her lips felt against his palm, of the faith she had in him. _Real illuminating._


	32. Chapter 32

"I really, really don't like this," Tara murmured, watching as wisps of blackish energy whirled in a semicircle around them.

Willow didn't say anything, too focused on the spell to argue with Tara, but Ethan looked up, perplexed. "Really, Tara, this is a simple summoning spell. You'll need to learn to call dark demons if you're to be a watcher someday. I don't want to hear anymore dilly-dallying, or I'll ask Amy to replace you."

For a moment, Tara was tempted to accept the threat and back out of the dark, dark place they were heading, but then she glanced over at Willow, still so innocent and unaware of the evils she was toying with, and shook her head rapidly. "N-No. I-I want to do this."

"Good." Ethan leaned back, satisfied. "There's no real danger, you know. The demon will be gone as soon as he appears."

As if on cue, the dark tendrils caught and crystallized, and something large and hideous and covered in fur hurtled toward them on eight long legs, roaring its attack. Ethan snapped his fingers and the demon disappeared in a flash of black light.

Willow breathed heavily, releasing the magicks she'd set loose, and Tara moved to hold her hands, to let it flow through her, too. With two people, the dark magic ebbed much faster, but the drain was also more sudden, and they sank to the ground together.

Ethan nodded at them. "Good work, girls. You'll clean up in here?" Without waiting for a response, he snapped his fingers and was gone, leaving them alone and curled up around each other.

Willow was the first to disentangle herself, looking beet red. "I…sorry. Didn't mean to crush you like that."

Tara looked at her dubiously. "I'm twice your size, Willow. If anyone's crushing anyone, it's me."

"You're not twice my size!" Willow blurted out. "You're nicely sized, I mean, not too big, not too small, and shaped kind of-" She stopped suddenly, beet red. "Can we…can we forget I just said all of that?"

"Sure." Tara gave her an odd smile, unsure of what was going on. To the uneducated ear, it almost sounded like Willow had been flirting with her…but Willow would _never_flirt with a girl. _Must be all that time with Faith and Buffy rubbing off on her_, she decided.

They lay side-by-side, a small distance between them and their faces just inches apart, staring at each other in contentment. Tara was too exhausted to move, especially since Willow hadn't managed to remove her legs from Tara's and their bare legs rested against each other's, hot with sweat and still-churning magic. But that was alright, since she didn't need to move for her next project. "Willow…" She bit her lip. "About the magic we did today…"

Willow rolled her eyes. "Don't tell me, it's dark and we should never, ever use such naughty things. Tara, you heard Ethan. We're going to need this someday."

"Maybe," Tara acknowledged reluctantly. "But it's not safe. Not like this, when we're surrounded by all this darkness and power-lust. It feeds on it, don't you see? It takes it out of us."

"Out of _you_," Willow said with quiet defiance. "I feel how much you hurt around the magic. You're used to light magic, which is slow-moving and comes out in trickles. But I can handle it! I feel the surge of power, and it still doesn't overwhelm me, doesn't affect me at all. Ethan says I'm the perfect vessel for magic, that he's never found anyone with the capacity for magic like mine." Her eyes were challenging and just a little hurt, the combination that always made Tara feel awful for criticizing Willow's greatest pride and joy.

But she had to get her point across now, while Willow was still teetering on the precipice of darkness. "Just because it's easy, it doesn't mean that it's right," she pointed out.

"It feels right to me." Willow sighed. "Look, Tara, I'm sorry, but I can't make myself weaker because you are. I can't limit myself like that."

"It's not about me!" Tara struggled to remain calm. "It's about _you_, and what Ethan's going to turn you into if you keep going down this path."

"Ethan's a teacher!"

"Doesn't make him right." Tara shrugged. "I mean, where did the demon we called go? How did Ethan get rid of it?"

"He sent it right back to where it came from, just faster than we called it." Willow finally rose, her energy somewhat replenished. "Sorry, Tara, but we're doing the right thing. And you're going to fall behind because of silly doubts that don't even matter." She waved her hand, sending the items on the table back to their respective cabinets, and stalked out of the room.

Tara watched her go, letting out a heavy sigh. _This isn't over_, she vowed. _I'm going to save Willow from herself if it's the last thing I do._

* * *

Jesse jogged over to Buffy. "Hey, nice job today."

"Thanks." Russell Winters hadn't been the most dangerous of vampire masters, more about showiness than actual talent, and Buffy had seen through it and defeated him in a matter of minutes. Her audience had been less than pleased, of course. Cordy had brought along all the potentials in their year to boo her until Gunn had ordered them to be silent, and Jesse, in an unexpected- or somewhat expected, since he made it his mission to foil Cordelia at every turn- move, had come to cheer Buffy on. Buffy hadn't really gotten to know Jesse as well as she had the others, but he wasn't as bad as she'd thought at first. "Thanks for coming, too."

He shrugged. "Couldn't let Cordy take you down, could I?"

"I guess not." Buffy smiled wanly. "I don't know what she's trying to accomplish here. Obviously, I'm not going to be pariahed into the slayer fold. And Cordy isn't making any friends by interrupting fights to cheer for vampires."

"Yeah, I can't-" Abruptly, he yanked Buffy to him and planted a long, hard kiss onto her lips. Too surprised to move away, it took nearly ten seconds before he finally let go and left her gaping at him.

All too soon, she understood what he'd been going for when she spotted Cordelia down the corridor. "Oh, look, it's the slayer slut and her pet loser," Cordy said scathingly, but her eyes were wide and surprised and there was more than a little hurt in them.

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, you're one to talk about dating Jesse-"

"Because I'd never give _you_ the time of day!" Jesse cut her off, reaching out to take her hand and squeeze it warningly. Buffy stared at him. Why was he keeping his relationship with Cordy a secret even now? It wasn't like he still cared…

…Or maybe he did, and there was suddenly an awkwardness between Jesse and Cordy that she'd never really noticed before, hurt feelings and anger and relief and gratitude all mixed up in their eyes as they locked. Had they been in love? What had Jesse given up by breaking up with Cordelia?

Cordy sniffed. "Please," she said, but there was little rancor in it, and she shot a glance back at Jesse before she swept out of the hallway.

Buffy wiped off her mouth as a smirking Faith joined them. "Better watch out, Jesse. She's got a vampire boyfriend who isn't gonna be happy to hear that you macked on her," she informed him.

Jesse looked amused. "Oh, so they're finally going steady?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Buffy said primly. "Russell and I are just friends." She turned on Jesse. "Seriously, though, that's the best you could think of? Make out with me in front of Cordy?"

He shrugged, unashamed. "Yep."

"Fantastic." Buffy blew him a mock kiss. "Oh, Jesse, our love will last forever!" she opined dramatically.

He seized her. "Be mine, sweet Buffy!" From the corner of her eye, she spotted Cordy's head poking back around the corner, and feeling suddenly guilty, she slipped away. "Anyway, Faith!" she said brightly. "Where've you been? You missed my moment of glory."

Faith shrugged nonchalantly. "Around."

"Around meaning…?" Buffy raised her eyebrows. Faith nodded significantly. "Ah. Any luck?"

"No." Faith looked suddenly dismal, and Buffy patted her reassuringly. It had been almost a month since Buffy and Faith had ventured into the basement in search of Angelus, and he still hadn't returned from the scientists' cells. From what Faith had said, Drusilla was wailing nonstop now, crying for her Daddy; even Darla was quietly frightened; and Spike rarely emerged from the back room anymore except to ask about Buffy from time to time.

Buffy missed Spike, but one thing he made clear to Faith was that she wasn't welcome in the basement. She'd never been one to obey blanket orders, but the second time she'd ventured down there, two days after their first trip, he'd refused to speak to her and tell her anything other than that she needed to leave. She'd sulked at first, but eventually conceded. If Spike didn't want to see her, then she didn't care about seeing him, either. Really.

She pushed thoughts of Spike from her head and focused instead on the problem at hand. "I hope he's okay," she murmured. Secretly, she hoped that Angelus was dusted, that she'd have one less thing to worry about, but Faith didn't need to know that.

And Faith gave her a grateful smile and said, "Thanks," so it was all worth it.

"What are you talking about?" Jesse asked curiously.

"Nothing," they chorused in unison, batting their eyelashes at a defenseless Jesse.

He grinned, unable to resist them. "How about I take you two lovely ladies out for dinner? There's this great place behind Holy Angels Cemetery that Xander and Oz and I sometimes visit when we're-"

"Offering the vampires a meals on wheels special?" Buffy suggested.

"Serving takeout?" Faith added.

"Giving out free samples?" Buffy finished.

Jesse rolled his eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Anyway, the Cordettes sometimes hang out there, and I'd love to arrive with two beautiful women on my arm."

"You would, wouldn't you?" Buffy shook her head, feeling suddenly awful for Cordy. Granted, she deserved it, but Buffy wasn't one for punishing others. Faith usually leaped on that opportunity for her. "I've got to catch up on some schoolwork. But you two go along…if that's okay, Faith?" She remembered suddenly Faith's objection to being forced to spend time with Willow and her friends.

Faith smirked. "Annoy Cordy with this stud? Definitely okay."

Faith and Jesse shared conspiratorial grins and sauntered out together, leaving a very bemused Buffy behind. She glanced longingly down the hallway from which Faith had emerged, thinking of one bleached blond vampire sitting in a cell and unequivocally, utterly bored, and for a moment, let herself consider…

No. If he only wanted to see her on the game floor, then he'd only see her on the game floor. She had better things to do than moon over Spike, no matter how hard it was to force herself to believe that.

* * *

Xander blinked. Then blinked again. And again. But no matter how many times he blinked, Faith was still in his room and on Jesse's bed. And no matter how many times he double-checked, they were still cozily seated beside each other, talking and laughing together as though they'd been best buddies for life.

He ground his teeth together, took a step into the room, and slammed the door shut with a loud bang. Jesse looked up. "Oh, hey, Xan."

"Jesse. Faith." She flushed and looked away from him. He chewed on the inside of his cheek. "You two look…comfy."

"We went out for dinner. Messed with Cordy's mind." Jesse grinned, unaware of the sudden tension in the room. "It was…freeing. I'm totally over her now."

Faith laughed uncomfortably. "Well, I do have that effect on people."

"I'm sure," Xander said coolly, turning to open his night table drawer. He yanked it out with savage force and selected a sharpened wooden stake.

When he looked up, Faith was watching him with those dark-rimmed doe eyes, sudden concern in her gaze. "Don't do this," she said quietly.

"You have no right," he informed her, and stalked out of the room.

The door opened moments later and Faith emerged, looking harried. "Xander, please. You're going to get yourself killed. At least let me come with you!"

Xander kept walking. "Aren't you too busy hanging out with _Jesse_?"

"Xander!" She grabbed his arm. "What the hell are doing? Why are you being like this?"

"Because I'm not useless!" he exploded, and she fell suddenly silent. "Because I can fight, and I can _do_ stuff, and next time I'm sent to a demon world, I'll know that I can take care of myself!"

She stared at him, her eyes wide and her lower lip quivering. "Wait. You don't mean…"

He looked away. "Can we not do this?"

"No! We can't not do this!" She grabbed his other hand, forcing him to face her. "God, Xander, if what I said to you last year is the reason why you're doing this-"

He laughed bitterly. "Don't flatter yourself. You're not the only one who thinks I'm not worth anything."

"I don't!" She took a deep breath. "Look, I'm not much for talking about my feelings, but…I was stupid last year. I didn't…you were good. I don't think there's any other watcher who could have handled me, and…" Her voice trailed off. "You were really, really good." She rose onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly on the cheek.

Xander froze. "Please don't go," she breathed into his ear. "Please don't-"

"Uh…" Jesse's voice broke through the stupor that had fallen over Xander the moment Faith's lips had touched his cheek. "I was just wondering if you wanted me to come along, but if I interrupted something…"

Faith jerked away from Xander, bright red, muttered something unintelligible and tore off, not looking back. Xander watched her go dazedly.

Jesse moved to stand beside him. "You never said you had a thing for Faith. Bro code, I wouldn't have gone out with her," he said teasingly.

"I don't have a thing for Faith," Xander said, grinning despite herself.

Jesse clapped him on the shoulder. "Sure."

They turned to go when a sudden, long shriek filled the halls of the dorm and Molly came tearing down the hallway, white with terror. "Demon!" she screeched. "There's an huge, horrible demon loose outside! Oh my god, oh my god, it's right near the school!"

She tore off, still crying at the top of her lungs, and more and more students emerged into the hall, talking and speculating and running for the windows to spot the demon. Slayers and watchers alike filled the corridors.

"Molly? Molly, get back here!"

"Someone get Giles!"

"Oh, my god, it's _huge_!"

Xander ignored them all. "Come on," he murmured. "Let's get Oz.

We'll go be heroes."

* * *

_If you're reading this, please let me know. It's becoming an exceedingly difficult task to try updating on vacation, and I'd appreciate knowing that I'm posting to an audience. Thank you! :)_


	33. Chapter 33

Thank you all for your lovely responses! These chapters are long-ago written, but I'm at sea right now and the Internet is both slow and priced exorbitantly, and it's been difficult to keep up the updating. :( So I really do appreciate knowing that you're all reading and enjoying! Your feedback brightens my every day. :)

* * *

Willow stared down out her window at the shadowy behemoth below and shook with horror. _I did that. Oh, god, Tara was right. That demon wasn't gone, after all! And if it hurts anyone- if it hurts one of my friends- then it's all my fault._ She inhaled deeply, struggling to calm herself. _I did this!_

"Hey." Amy frowned at her. "Relax. It can't get into the school."

"You don't understand! I summoned-" She fell silent, a moment too late.

Amy laughed. "Oh, that's precious. Did you and Tara summon it? Giles is going to be furious!" Amy had made no secret of her jealousy at having been excluded from most of their spells this year, nor at being replaced by Tara, and Willow was just about fed up with it.

Now wasn't the time to rib at Amy, though. "I have to find Tara. And Ethan. We need to get rid of that thing before someone gets hurt."

Amy glanced out the window. "Good luck with that."

Willow followed her gaze to the demon, and the three boys approaching, brandishing crossbows, stakes, and was that a sword? "Oh, god."

And then the trio took off, sprinting away from the school, and the demon readily followed.

* * *

"This is fantastic!" Xander shouted over the demon's roars. They'd stolen crossbows from the slayer cabinets and Jesse had even picked out a sword, and for once, Xander actually felt like this was going to be a breeze.

"Really not the term I was going for," Oz said dryly, but he kept running alongside Xander. "The cemetery?"

"Yeah. Let's block it off there, and then we'll hack off its head," Xander decided.

"Dibs!" Jesse hefted his sword at the demon behind them, laughing carelessly as the demon roared at him again.

"This way. We'll need to-"

The demon turned suddenly and hurtled to the right, into a dark alley just before the cemetery. "Oh, crap." Jesse made a face. "There's no space there. Just the pub's-"

There was a girlish scream in the dark, and he shot up, his eyes wide. "Cordy!"

* * *

Tara was already in the lab when Willow burst in, pacing back and forth and reciting spells from a spellbook as she did. She looked up to shake her head at Willow. "I can't find Giles anywhere! And Miss Calendar and Ethan both left on some magical retreat with the advanced witches earlier tonight, so no one's here right now. It's just us."

"And Xander's trying to 'help,'" Willow said grimly. "We've got to stop the demon before he gets himself killed."

"Oh, god." Tara set down the book and dropped her hands. "This is all my fault. I should have said something. I should have stopped you."

Willow took her hands. "No, it's my fault. You warned me, and I was too caught up in how powerful I felt to listen! I'm sorry, Tara!" she sobbed.

Tara pulled her into the warmth of her embrace and held her tightly, swaying with her. "It's alright, Will," she whispered. "We're going to fix this."

"How?" Willow closed her eyes. Being wrapped in Tara's arms had a rightness to it that she didn't want to contemplate right now, especially not when Oz was risking his life to save Xander's. "What do we do?"

Tara shrugged. "We summon it back here, I guess." She considered. "Except…then it's _in_ the building. So maybe not."

Willow wrung her hands. "I have to know what's going on! Oz could be hurt, or dead, or worse!"

"We'll track it." Tara let her go to flip through the book again. "Here. A seeing spell."

* * *

"Cordy!" Jesse ran headlong into the alley, swinging his sword blindly at the demon. It reared upwards, and for a moment, he could see Cordelia beyond it, backed into a corner and pale but defiant. "Cordy!"

In true Cordy style, she turned to glare at him. "Are you going to take care of this thing or not? I just got a manicure earlier today, you know."

He bit back a grin and crashed his sword into the demon. It let out a howl and pawed at him, slashing sharp claws at his face. "Argh!"

"Jesse?" It might have been his imagination, but he heard a hint of fear in her voice, an emotion he'd never seen her display before. "You okay?"

"Fine!" he called back, blinking blood out of his eyes.

"Whatever," she said indifferently. He rolled his eyes.

The demon roared again and skittered toward him, baring its teeth-

-And promptly reared back, an arrow sticking out of its stomach.

"Nice shot, Oz!" Xander shouted over its cries of fury. "Think you can get the heart this time?"

Jesse ignored them, intent on Cordy. She was edging forward, heading for the ladder that ran down the height of the alley and up to the roof, far from the reach of the demon. She tossed him a questioning look, and he nodded in acquiescence. "Guys? I'm taking Cordy home."

"You're not going to stay for the kill?" Xander sounded disappointed, and Oz tossed him a worried glance.

"She needs help," Jesse said simply, and that was all.

She didn't need help, not really, and that was one of the things he lo- he really liked about her. Within moments, Cordy had managed to sneak past the raging demon and grab hold of the lowest rung, using slayer training to swing herself upward and onto the ladder. Unfortunately, though, it didn't take for the demon to catch the scent of her escape, and it turned with a vicious snarl to attack her…just as Oz's second arrow hit its side.

"We're gonna do this!" Xander said gleefully, and Jesse barely heard Oz's sigh as he tore off.

He reached the ladder as Cordy slipped, falling backwards into his arms with a muffled cry. He grinned. "Going somewhere?"

"Don't go all superhero on me," she scoffed. "I know you too well to fall for that crap."

"Yeah, you do." He hoisted her back onto the ladder, following her upwards until they'd finally reached the roof, and only then did they finally surge together in a desperate kiss.

* * *

"Wow," Willow breathed, staring at the board with wide eyes. They'd magicked it into a Seeing board, and displayed on it now, barely visible in the light of the full moon, were Cordy and Jesse, wrapped in a passionate embrace. "I guess they worked things out."

"You don't mind?" Tara asked curiously. From what she'd seen, Willow despised Cordy and despised Jesse, too, when he was with Cordy.

Willow shrugged sheepishly. "He really cares about her. And I might hate it, but she makes him so happy…and I can't be upset about that. We can't choose who we love, or who we're attracted to." She looked away for a moment, and when she turned back, her eyes were a little too bright and her cheeks a little too flushed. "But we should probably check on that demon again."

Tara muttered directions to the board, watching as it shifted to the image of Xander and Oz fighting the demon. Both were brandishing crossbows and shouting to the demon- well, Xander was, at least- and it was making an equally loud ruckus as it tore towards them again, incognizant of the arrows still embedded in its fur.

Its silvery fur.

"Tara?" Willow said in a small voice, echoing Tara's thoughts. "Wasn't the demon we summoned brown?"

* * *

"I've missed you so much," Cordy panted between kisses.

"Wasn't the same," Jesse agreed, suckling at her lower lip and chewing softly. "Every day, I wanted to just take it all back. To be with you again."

"Mm." Cordy curled up against him. "Me, too."

He brushed a kiss against her hair. "Cor…"

"I'll stop," she said quietly.

"Cor?"

"I'll stop harassing Buffy. I promise." She sighed in contentment. "It's not worth giving this up, anyway. Buffy's just annoying sometimes."

"So are you," Jesse pointed out, smirking.

She rolled her eyes. "Guess you're rubbing off on me."

"But you'll really stop?" Jesse asked carefully. He wasn't sure if he could stay away, not again, but if she kept picking on Buffy…well, Jesse was starting to really like the other slayer, and soon, it wouldn't just be about placating Willow. Buffy and Faith were proving to be the exception to the slayers-are-uptight-bitches rule, and he wasn't ready for Cordy to undo that.

She shrugged. "Can't vouch for the other girls, but I'll lay off of her. Promise."

"Good." He pressed a kiss to her ear. "Let's go home."

* * *

"I think the summoning spell was in one of Ethan's private collections," Willow said worriedly. "The ones he actually locks away."

Tara gave her a surprisingly playful smirk. "Oh, and we're going to let that stop us?" She moved across the room to touch the door of Ethan's closet. "Ready?"

Willow joined her, slowing her breathing and focusing. Almost immediately, tendrils of magic reached across, from one to the other, and the two witches slowly became one entity, pure magic and nothing else, lost in the richness of its purity. Willow gasped as she felt Tara fill her completely, her most intimate areas bare before Tara and Tara's to her, the magic the only thing that mattered at the moment.

She loved these moments she shared with Tara, loved the intimacy and the belonging and the pleasure that they brought, but at the same time, a part of her recoiled, that reminder that she'd forgotten something niggling in the back of her mind and setting the whole thing just a hair _off_.

Tara felt it too- because in these seconds, Tara felt everything- and her soft kiss of serenity brushed against Willow's essence and let the doubts fade away, let the magic return when worry had forced it off and destroyed Willow's peace.

When they finally reached the pinnacle of their achievement, the highest moment, Willow forced the word to come to her mouth and escape into the mortal, empty world._ "Unlock."_

The door sprang open and Tara's magic shuddered suddenly from what they could both feel as the dark magic emanating from the door they'd opened. Willow touched her comfortingly, feeling her relax into the embrace of Willow's magic and the gentleness that lay within. Then, before she could stop herself, she was suddenly _reaching_ below, to parts of Tara that she knew should be beyond her, touching them and prodding them and slipping within…

Tara shot from her with a gasp and a long, unending shudder, and Willow's breath quickened as she struggled to reach the same point, the same pleasure-

Tara _touched_ it and she came with a cry, jerking out of the magic and into the real world so abruptly that she would have fallen over, had she not been against the wall to begin with.

Tara blinked at her, her face very red. "Willow…"

And before she could think about what she was doing, Willow pulled Tara to her and mashed her lips against the other girl's.

* * *

"Come on, Demon Boy!" Xander swung a stake in its direction. "We need another name than Demon Boy. Shame that Jesse left, he'd probably know what this is. Hey, maybe it's a girl." He frowned.

Oz shook his head. "Enough, Xander. We can't beat this thing." The demon had recovered from their blows quickly and cornered them into the back of the alley in a matter of seconds. "It's too strong."

"It's never too strong!" Xander hurled the stake at the demon. "We never give up, and we keep on winning! It's that simple."

"It isn't," Oz said calmly, aiming his crossbow yet again. "We're not built for this, Xan. If someone attacks us, we can fight back. But tempting danger like this…you need to cut it out."

"Cut what out? Saving people's lives? Fighting evil?" Xander shook his head disbelievingly.

"This self-destructive behavior," Oz corrected. "Listen, I can't keep watching your ass. It worries Willow, and honestly, I can't think of a good reason to encourage you." He shot an arrow at the demon. "Someone's going to get hurt."

"Oz…"

"Go up the ladder. Leave this to the real watchers."

"No!" Xander lifted his own crossbow. "If you want to weasel out of this, fine. Go ahead. But I'm not going to stop until that monster's dead."

"Don't be an idiot, Xander," Oz said, and he walked to the ladder and hoisted himself up.

Xander gaped at him disbelievingly. He was really going to leave? When they were up against a snarling, dangerous enemy who was even dropping his guard now, turning away from Xander to…

"OZ!" But it was too late, and the demon reached Oz just as Oz reached the roof, sinking its teeth into his leg and yanking him away to the ground. "Dammit!" And then Xander was racing across the alley to them, to shove his stake into the creature's side and watch with satisfaction as the blood flowed freely, but it was too late, and Oz was already on the ground, groaning and rubbing his head where he'd hit the wall of the alley, blood trickling from the side of his face and his pants a bloodied, mangled mess.

The demon, finally decided that it had had enough of this abuse, took off into the night with a parting roar and left Xander and Oz behind to huddle in the corner of the alley and breath sighs of relief. "Are you…?"

"I'm fine. Just a concussion, I think. Oh, and my leg's bleeding, but it's not that deep," Oz noted, giving Xander a significant look. "_This_ time."

Xander nodded reluctantly. "I guess we're not ready for demons just yet," he conceded.

Oz shook his head. "Did you hear anything I said?"

Xander ignored him. "Let's get out of here."

* * *

_It was heaven in a moment, real and natural and everything she loved at her fingertips, and then-  
_  
Willow parted from Tara, her eyes wide. "Oh, my god. I shouldn't have done that. I really shouldn't have done that! I'm not…I mean, I have…I'm not gay or anything!"

"I am," Tara said, struggling to sound matter-of-fact. A part of her wanted to dance and sing and declare to the world that Willow Rosenberg had kissed her- her, Tara Maclay, who'd never wanted anything more. But Willow was white-faced and looked utterly horrified, and Tara pushed down the joy and let herself settle into the far more reliable misery.

"You are?" Willow shook her head. "But you never told me…I didn't know! I can't believe I just kissed a girl!" She squeezed her eyes shut. "No. This is because of the dream, of the magic…I have to go."

_She had to go._ Tara should have expected this, should have known that if Willow had ever reciprocated her feelings, it would come first with the horror of having reciprocated, but it didn't hurt any less. Willow was drawn to her, but only during the magic, and she'd let it carry her away this time. She didn't want Tara. She'd never want Tara. She had Oz, caring, devoted, and _male_as he was, and Tara was just the friend she'd probably never speak to again.

_Oz. Right._ She blinked back tears and turned back to the girl she loved, to try to save the life of the boy _she_ loved.

"W-w-wait." She put a hand on Willow's arm. Willow jerked away. She let her hand fall. "W-we n-need to help the boys."

But while Willow and Tara had been- _alive for the first time_¬- kissing, the demon had vanished and the boys were hobbling out of the alleyway, Oz's head lolling to the side and his right foot dragging behind him. Willow gasped. "Oh, Oz! My Oz! And I-" She buried her face in her hands.

"F-follow the demon," Tara said quietly. The left half of the board shifted to the demon as it lumbered into the lights of the street, and they saw it clearly for the first time.

"Oh, god," Willow breathed, her earlier tears forgotten. "That's not what we summoned, T-" She stopped short of saying Tara's name, and Tara swallowed her sorrow at that and asked instead, "How do you know?"

"We summoned some kind of spider thing. That's…" She shook her head. "That's a werewolf."

And both their eyes moved back to the right side of the board, to the boys stumbling toward the school, and to Oz's leg, bloodied from the bite of the wolf.


	34. Chapter 34

"It's time."

"Time?" Faith repeated dazedly. "Time for what?" She'd toyed with the idea of following Xander out of the school, accompanying him on his insane new hobby and making sure that he came out of it alive. But she didn't need to spend any more time with Xander Harris. He made her uncomfortable and anxious to _be_ something, and she hated that almost as much as she did feeling needy. So she'd gone to check on Angelus and found him sprawled shirtless on the floor of his cage, paler than even standard vampire hue and his chest covered with the clinical scars of incisions and cuts to the chest.

He reached out to squeeze her hand. "Time for us to be together. Truly together." Warm brown eyes met her own and she trembled with fear and excitement. "Do you understand, Faith?"

Darla moved swiftly to stand behind Angelus, separated from him only by the bars of the cage. "Angelus," she said urgently. "It _isn't_ time. This isn't how we planned it."

Angelus's eyes darkened, and a strong hand snaked out to wrap around Darla's ankle. "I'm leaving this hellhole, and unless you'd like to stick around until the scientists get to you, too, you're going to follow my lead. Understood?"

"Angelus-"

"We're getting OUT!" he roared suddenly, and Faith flinched backward, suddenly very afraid. Angelus was _always_ calm, or at the very worst mildly amused, and he'd never displayed fear and desperation like this before.

Never.

He saw her alarm and softened, tugging her closer. "Faith, it's alright," he cooed. "Those scientists just set me a little off guard. I just want to be with you."

"With me?"

His eyes glittered. "I want to be buried within you, to take you to me and hold you in my arms as I shatter your every barrier and hear you scream. I want to sink my teeth into your skin and turn you into my willing slave, to destroy everything you've ever known and replace it all with only me. I want to break free of these shackles and burn down this prison, to leave it and all it represents behind in ashes as we cut a swath through England and make those damned watchers wish that they'd never been born." He paused, and she tried to follow his words, to consider them dispassionately. They seemed to make sense, she thought, though it all got kind of fuzzy if she thought about it for too long or too deeply. "I want you to steal the key from your principal and let me out of my cell," Angelus clarified.

She nodded. "Okay."

He didn't send her to oblivion today, not when he couldn't even stand, so she left after only a few more minutes, her new mission strong in her mind.

She walked past Spike as she left, and for a moment, she wondered why he was staring at her with such conflict and misery on his face. But it didn't matter, not when Angelus had given her an order to obey. Nothing else did.

* * *

"You need to get inside," Willow said rapidly as soon as she'd reached the door, a panting Tara right behind her. "Now!"

"Will, we're fine. Oz is just a little shaky." Xander waved his hand dismissively. "Can't you just do a quick healing spell? He'll be fine if-"

"He's a werewolf," Willow interrupted. Now wasn't the time to worry about Xander's excuses and defensiveness, not when they had a time bomb like Oz on their hands.

Xander blinked. "What?"

"That demon? It was a werewolf. Oz was bitten, and tomorrow's the third night of the full moon." Willow shook her head. "He's going to change." She hadn't cried yet, not when there was so much to do to keep Oz safe, to keep Xander out of trouble. She didn't have time to wallow in self-pity, so she'd turned on Watcher Willow and wouldn't turn her off until the night of the full moon was over. "We need a place to keep him for the next night when he goes wolfy."

Xander blinked again. "No. What are you talking about? You're overreacting." He hauled Oz forward. Oz shrugged. "Look. This is Oz, and he's totally normal. It was just a leg bite, not on the neck or anything, and it barely drew any blood! He's fine."

"A bite is a bite, Xander," Willow said impatiently. "If you're not going to help, get out. You've done enough damage already."

"We didn't do damage!" Xander protested. "We saved Cordelia's life!"

Willow shot him a glare. "At the risk of Oz's? Cordy might have made it. Oz isn't going to."

"He's not dead! He's right here, hale and hearty and all that crap. So maybe he'll be a werewolf three nights a month. It's not like his life is over- if he really _does_ become the wolf," Xander pointed out.

Willow shook her head, feeling anger flare beneath the Watcher Willow persona. "How long are you going to keep this up? How many more lives do you have to ruin before you finally accept that you _can't_ work out your issues by dragging your friends into danger?" She took Oz by the arm and turned to go. "I can't be around you when you're being this…this selfish!"

She stormed down the hall, heading for the stairs with an obedient Oz and Tara- _Don't think about Tara. Just…don't._- at her heels.

"Wait!" Willow paused. "There's a crypt at the cemetery," Xander said quietly. "The tall one in the front. It's, uh…it's got a bar across one of the doors…you'd need opposable thumbs to work it. We can-"

"No," Willow said coldly. "_I_ can. You've helped enough already."

* * *

He spent the next day in a daze, the ramifications of what had happened still not hitting home, not even when Willow skipped all her classes, even Mr. Rayne's, for the first time in her academic history.

It was only once he glanced out his window just before sundown and spotted Willow leading Oz down the lawn that the full import of what he'd done registered, and he sank to the floor with a cry._ Oh, god. Oh, god. Oz…_

He'd done it. Oz had gone out there to watch him, to keep him safe, and Xander had responded by destroying him, by drawing him into a trap that he'd never be able to escape. Oz was a demon. Oz was a werewolf. A _werewolf_.

He needed to talk to someone, to figure things out, what they were going to do, how they could keep it a secret from the watchers, but there was no one there. Jesse and Cordelia had vanished into her room sometime last night and had yet to emerge, and Willow was most definitely _not_ speaking to him.

He thought of a pair of soft lips brushing against his cheek and an even softer voice telling him he was good, and he headed toward the potentials' rooms.

Faith looked up when he arrived, saw the overwhelming dread on his face, and crossed the room in three long strides. "What the hell happened to you?" she demanded.

Buffy was sitting on the other bed, leaving through a textbook, and she also looked at him with acute concern. "Xander, what's wrong?"

"Oz. He's…" He took in a ragged breath. "You were right, Faith. Someone got hurt. Someone…" He tried breathing again and found that it was even more difficult than before.

She ran her fingers down his arm, rubbing against his wrist. "Calm down. Breathe. Breathe."

He sucked in air, slumping against her wearily. "I let Oz… He's…"

"Stop." She covered his mouth with her hand. "Don't talk. Sit down." He followed her instructions obediently. "Breathe."

He tried again, closing his eyes in an attempt to relax himself. It didn't work, and he was soon shaking again, unable to process anything that was happening. Soft fingers moved against him, two pairs of hands slowly helping him lie down against a pillow that smelled of Faith's shampoo.

"Do you want me to leave him with you?" he heard Buffy ask quietly.

Faith's voice was close to his ear, her breath tickling it as she responded. "Do you mind?"

"Of course not." The door closed with a low click and Xander finally remembered to breathe in and out, letting his chest rise and fall with the motion.

"Hey. Can you talk?" Faith murmured.

"Oz," he said hoarsely.

"What happened to him?" Her voice was soft, softer than he'd ever heard it before, and he reached blindly for her. A hand was laid against his own, and Faith squeezed gently.

"Were…werewolf. Bit him."

"Oz is a werewolf?" Faith repeated.

He opened his eyes. Tears blurred his vision. "Now he is."

"Shit," Faith said faintly. "What are you going to do?"

"Willow's taking care of it. She doesn't…she doesn't want me involved."

"And for good reason," Faith muttered, and Xander recoiled. She sighed. "What? You were an idiot. You made a mistake, and now your friend's paying for it. Don't tell me you came _here_ for someone to sugarcoat what you did."

"Congratulations, you're right. I'm a screw-up," Xander said bitterly.

Faith smacked him. Hard. "Ow! What the hell, Faith?" His eyes were wide open now, the tears gone and replaced with outrage.

She shrugged. "I was getting sick of the self-pity. That's usually my gig, anyway. Get your own shtick." He snorted. She shifted so that she was sitting beside him, staring down at his face. "Come on, Xander. There's nothing else you can do right now. But quit making this about you."

"But it is!" he argued. "If I hadn't-"

"Yeah. But you did. Deal with it." There was a distinct lack of sympathy in her voice, but her eyes belied the opposite, sorrow and pity and understanding all wrapped up in her gaze and warming him.

He gave her a wry smile. "You are a compassionate and caring woman who knows exactly what to say," he observed, straight-faced.

She patted his arm. "Yeah, I am."

* * *

"This is perfect," Willow decided, looking around the crypt. The back wall was blocked off by long, thin bars that felt strong to the touch, and only by turning a metal stick in front of them did they part and open. "What do you think?"

"It looks fine," Oz said, glancing around. "Secure."

"…Good." Willow twitched nervously. "So you're okay with this place?"

"Sure." Oz nodded serenely.

Willow shook her head. "And the whole werewolf thing?" she demanded.

"Guess so."

Horror and panic rose and mashed together, producing an unpleasant fury that finally hit Watcher Willow's breaking point. "How can you be so calm about this?" she shrieked, wringing her hands. "You're a werewolf, Oz! A werewolf! Everything's changed! You'll be a demon, uncontrollable, feeding on people..." Tears flowed freely down her face. "You're a werewolf!" she sobbed. "It's all so…so…" She grasped for a word and came up blank, staggering into Oz's arms instead and raining weak punches against his chest.

He kissed her softly on the forehead. "I'm terrified," he murmured. "I just don't show it well."

"How can you not show it well? How can you just phase out your feelings like this?" she wept. "Don't you care about anything?"

"I care about you," he whispered. "I love you."

She clung to him. "I love you, too. More than anything. And to see you like this…to know that you're going to…to become…"

"Willow." He stepped away from her, supporting her shoulders but keeping a sudden distance. "I want you to get Xander. Have him keep guard over me tonight. I can't…you can't see me like that."

"No." She met his eyes defiantly. "I don't care what happens. What you become. You're my Oz, and you'll always be my Oz, even when you're four-legged and furry."

He shook his head. "I don't want-" And then he froze, and she _knew_. "Get away from me!" he shouted. "Now!"

She shoved him into the cage, turned the stick, and watched him struggle, watched as his face bulged outward into a muzzle and his eyes became round and dark, as his body lengthened and hair sprouted from it as his clothes tore and fell into a puddle on the floor.

And she waited to cry until it was over, and a monster stood where her love had once been.

* * *

She woke up later in the night, her back cramped and her bed oddly cold and hard.

No. Not her bed.

The earlier segment of the night came back to her in a flash, and she squeezed her eyes tightly shut so that she wouldn't catch sight of the monstrosity her boyfriend had become. She remembered its roars, the way it had thrown itself against the bars of the cage at her and its cold, empty eyes. She remembered how it slavered at her and stared greedily at her as though she were just a morsel of food, how it had tried desperately to bite off her hand the one time she'd stuck it into the cage. She remembered the howls into the night that had kept her crying helplessly in concert, a symphony of despair.

But now it was silent, and with dawning horror, Willow opened her eyes to look to the cage.

The bars were shattered, the crypt empty.

Oz was gone.

* * *

Riley Finn had been dubious about the Initiative's work at first, too focused on Giles's negativity concerning them to actually see the good in their mission. But today, he was finally convinced, because the Initiative had finally had the opportunity to do something great.

There'd been a demon loose in town the past two nights, terrorizing the general populace, and where watchers had failed, Dr. Walsh, her assistants, and Riley and Graham had managed to track it down and tranquilize it, bringing it back to the lab for study.

And they'd discovered that it was a _werewolf_, of all demons. Which meant that, though it had human status, it wasn't going to be permitted to roam free, even during the rest of the month. Werewolves were notorious for fleeing their captors in human form and later causing great damage to innocents, and Riley was sure that this one was going to be no exception.

Well, until the sun came up, and Riley watched the slow transformation from wolf to boy. To very familiar boy. "I know that kid," he said, frowning.

"What was that, Finn?" Dr. Walsh turned to stare at him questioningly.

"I know that kid," Riley repeated disbelievingly. "He's one of the watchers. How…has he always been a werewolf?"

* * *

"You did this?" Giles's eyes were flashing, his voice low, angrier than Xander had ever seen him before. "You brought Oz to the werewolf?" he demanded, leaning forward over his desk to fix a furious glare on Xander.

Xander nodded blankly, feeling Faith's hand in his own, feeling Willow's silent misery as she stood stiffly beside him. She'd told Giles the truth, of course, and he couldn't begrudge her that. Especially not when Faith had followed him here, determined to "be his moral support," she'd said, but her eyes had been shifty when she'd spoken. Whatever. He didn't have time to wonder about that now.

"Who else?" Giles barked out. "Willow? Jesse?" He turned to Faith, dark condemnation in his eyes. "Were you there, too?"

"It was just me," Xander said quietly. "No one else. Oz was trying to stop me. They all were."

Giles shook his head. "Everyone but Xander, out. Now!" he snapped, and Faith and Willow jumped.

When they were gone, Giles moved around the desk to stare at him with dark, disappointed eyes. "I put my faith in you," he said in a low voice. "I trusted you to be a man. And you've destroyed it all."

Xander stared at the floor. A hand reached under his chin, forcing him up to meet Giles's furious gaze. "You may not look away," Giles said coldly. "You haven't earned that." He dropped his hand, taking a step back. "You're done here."

"Wh-What?"

"Pack your things." Giles's eyes hardened further. "The Academy jet will leave to Tibet tonight, to take Oz to a facility there, and will afterwards leave to Sunnydale." He paused. "A bit of a roundabout journey, but I want you out of my school, the sooner the better."

"Giles…" He didn't know what to say, how to express his apologies and contrition and the overwhelming sorrow and shame at having let Giles down, at having hurt Oz, at being alone in the world. He couldn't beg not to go home, not anymore. It was what he deserved.

"Get out," Giles ordered, turning away. "I want you gone."

* * *

Willow and Faith were both waiting for him in the waiting area, their spines ramrod-straight, facing forward with determination not to speak to each other. Willow was the first to jump up and run to him. "What happened?"

"They're sending me home," he murmured, unable to meet her eyes.

She shook her head vigorously. "No. No! They can't take both of you away!" she sobbed, clinging to him.

He patted her back awkwardly, his gaze shifting to lock on Faith's. Her expression was determined and intense. "Like hell you are," she said grimly, rising. "Let's get out of here."

"What?"

"You are _not_ going home," she informed him. "And they can't make you board the jet if they can't find you, right?"

Willow turned to stare at her. "Where are you going to take him?"

Faith ignored her. "I can get you into the sewers, but no further than that. You need to stay there, underneath the school's protective spells, or they'll find you magically in an instant. Got it?"

Xander nodded dumbly.

"You going to bring anything? Weapons? There's still a werewolf on the loose," she pointed out impatiently. "We don't have any time to lose, but you need to be armed."

"I have a crossbow. In my room."

"Get it, Rosenberg," Faith ordered. "Meet us by the back door." Willow looked as though she was about to argue with her, but she snapped her mouth closed instead and bolted out of the room. "You. Come on."

"The back door's locked," Xander pointed out, hurrying after her. "How are we going to-"

"Skeleton key." Faith held it up, looking at it with a strange sort of longing. "The only one of its kind. It's magically enchanted to open any lock in the Academy. I stole it from Giles when we were in his office."

"You _what_?"

She shoved it into his hand. "Keep it. You're going to need it more than me." They reached the locked back door and stopped, staring at each other.

"Faith…_Thank_ you."

She shrugged, flushing. "Yeah, well, things get boring when you're not around, Harris."

And he couldn't help then but to pull her to him and plant a soft kiss on her very surprised lips. "You, too," he whispered against them, and they opened to kiss him back in earnest, to let her lips and tongue do the talking when they never before really had. He drank it in, sank into every moment of it and let her overcome him in ways he'd only dreamt of before, if only for a moment.

She parted from him, her eyes shining. "I'm glad you won't be here when it happens," she whispered, pressing her lips to his one last time.

* * *

Jenny Calendar emerged from her office, just beside Giles's, to peek her head inside. "You heard the kids talking?"

Giles sighed heavily. "Yes."

"And?" She looked at him expectantly. "Should I stop them?"

Giles massaged his temples, feeling suddenly very old. "Let him go for now," he murmured. "Just let him go." 


	35. Chapter 35

I'm back home now, and I should be getting to respond to reviews within the next day or two. Thank you to those of you who've stayed with me these past two weeks! Thanks to your feedback and support, I've nearly finished writing the fic. :)

* * *

"We've just gotten news." It was Ethan at his door now, his voice more somber than it had been in years. "A man has turned himself in to the hospital, claims that he's woken up the past two nights naked in the outskirts of town with no memories of where he was. Sounds like it could have been the original werewolf."

Giles rose in a mechanical motion. "We'd better check on him, then," he murmured. "We've delayed the jet for an hour or so while Travers sends in an investigative team. They're…less than ready to believe that Xander has truly vanished from the school."

Ethan leaned against the doorjamb. "And has he?"

"Jenny did a locator spell that came up blank, which should indicate that he's still in the vicinity…or under a protective cover. His best friend is Willow Rosenberg, and I imagine that she's capable of such." Giles pulled on his coat, Ethan at his heels. "Of course, my skeleton key is also missing. But there's no need for Travers to find that out."

"You're going to let him go?" Ethan tossed him an admiring glance. "Rupert, you old dog! Breaking the rules like this? There's hope for you yet."

"Thanks ever so," Giles said dryly. His expression took on a serious cast. "Xander Harris was born to one of the most despicable parents I've ever met. I can't in good conscience force him back to that, even if he deserves it. Expulsion from the Academy is punishment enough."

"We haven't lost a student in ten years, since…" Ethan glanced around at the front hallway, where students were milling around and watching them with inquisitive stares. "…Her. I can understand if you're reluctant to give one up now."

"We'll be losing Oz regardless." Giles closed his eyes. "Another student, lost to occupational hazards. It's a wonder we made it this long."

* * *

Tara had come to say goodbye to Oz, unsure of whether she'd be wanted but positive that Willow was going to need someone to be there for her. She'd lost Xander and Oz in one fell swoop, and that had to have taken a toll- and this was about _friendship_, not the kiss. Never the kiss. Willow had been confused, and Tara was determined not to take advantage of that, especially after what had happened with Oz.

So she'd come to Oz's room as he finished packing, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce watching him warily with a tranquilizer gun in hand, and knocked politely on the open door.

Willow came to the doorway, her eyes red and swollen around the edges, and a tissue held close to her nose as she sniffled back tears. Her eyes darkened when she saw Tara. "You. What are you doing here?"

"Hey." Tara managed a smile. "I thought you could use a friend."

Willow shook her head, studiously avoiding Tara's gaze. "No," she said shakily, her voice rising as she spoke. "Not you! I can't believe that you would come here- _here_ , to Oz's room!- after what happened!" She lowered her voice. "That will _never_ happen again, okay? And I can't believe that I thought you were my friend, when you just wanted…wanted…" She slammed the door closed on Tara's face, leaving the other girl quietly mournful in the hallway.

She bit back sudden tears and headed back to her room to cry it out in solitude.

* * *

Buffy gave Willow a sympathetic look as she slammed the door shut. "Everything okay with Tara?"

Willow shrugged. "Just…witchy stuff. Nothing to worry about." She turned to pass Oz a stack of t-shirts.

He gave her a half-smile. "You all right?"

She shook her head. "How can you ask that now? How can I ever be all right without you?" The tears had been coming and going all day, and now they were back in full force. "My god, Oz, I can't do it! I can't!"

He pulled her to him soothingly, to kiss her tears away and hold her in his tight embrace, letting her fall to pieces as he held them together. "I'll never stop loving you," he assured her. "Never."

"I love you," she sobbed. Somewhere through the haze of sorrow, she heard Buffy move to open the door to the room as someone else knocked, and a very awkward-looking Jesse and Cordelia entered together.

Within moments, Jesse was standing in front of them, his shoulders slumped and his eyes ashamed. "I'm sorry, man. I should have stayed."

"There was nothing else to do," Oz said, tossing a wary glance to Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. He looked pointedly away, ignoring the implications of Jesse's presence on their fatal foray. "You saved Cordy."

"He did," Cordy said, squeezing Jesse's hand. Willow swallowed back jealousy and anger that she had no time for at such a dire time. "And we're back together. For good, this time, and to hell with what everyone's going to say about me dating a loser! I make the rules around here!" she declared, stamping a foot with precise certainty. "And if anyone has a problem with it, well, my boyfriend took down a werewolf. He's not going to have a problem with a bunch of wannabe slayers! Oh, and sorry about the whole wolf thing. That probably sucks," she added as an afterthought, reaching over to give Oz an encouraging pat on the shoulder before she reconsidered and pulled her hand away. "No offense, but I'm not going to touch you. What if it's contagious?"

"It's best to be careful," Oz agreed, deadpan.

"Anyway, I thought I'd leave Jesse here with you while I go out for lunch with the girls! Buffy, you coming?" She beamed at Jesse with all the pride of a job well done, seized a bemused Buffy by the arm and was out of the room before anyone could argue with them.

Oz shrugged. "That was interesting."

Willow threw her arms around him and began to sob anew.

* * *

"I'm sorry," Giles said quietly. "It isn't something that can be stopped."

"But a werewolf!" The man stared up at them disbelievingly. "Such things don't exist, not outside of horror movies! You can't just waltz in here and insist that I'm a _werewolf_!"

"Were you bitten at some point over the past month? By a human or any other creature?" Giles inquired.

The man shook his head. "Not that I can remember. And I haven't even been blacking out for the last three days, like you said, only the last two. Your theory makes no sense, and-"

"It's the truth, and we really don't have time to wait for the realization to settle," Ethan interrupted, scowling at him. "There's a jet leaving for Tibet in several hours, and a facility there equipped to deal with people like you. Rupert here is too proper to force you on the plane, but I'm not- and I'm also a warlock who will just as easily knock you out until the moment you land in Tibet if you refuse. Understood?"

The man held up his hands. "Hey, you might be crazies, but you do make a certain amount of sense. And to be completely honest, I've got nowhere else to go."

"Very well. You'll come with us?" Giles asked curtly.

The man shrugged. "Yeah, okay. Is it alright if I contact my wife, tell her I'll be out of town?"

"You're married?" Giles sighed wearily. It was always the most difficult when these things happened to a family man.

"Separated, actually," the man elaborated. "I…uh, I was having a little something on the side. To satisfy my needs, if you know what I mean." He winked rather hideously at Giles.

"He doesn't," Ethan cut in. "He's got the most disgustingly healthy long-term relationship going on. Makes me sick, it does."

"Stay away from marriage," the man warned. "Oh, they're alright at first, then they start nagging for children and more attention…and the next thing you know, you're trapped in a marriage with a broad who won't put out as often as she used to, and three squalling children who're a nightmare to put up with. Can you blame me for looking elsewhere for my…entertainment?" He wrinkled his nose. "But the old lady found out a few days ago, told me to leave her house and never come back. Thought I'd mention to her that I'm actually listening to her for a change, make her regret having come on me so harshly." He sat back, pleased.

But a cold chill was running through Giles and unwelcome suspicions were slowly building. "Can you tell me where you lived?" he heard himself asking, his mind whirring wildly with dawning realization.  
_  
It couldn't be._

_Could it?  
_

* * *

"We're what?"

"Doing lunch. God, are you an idiot?" Cordy demanded. "Just to set things straight here, I'm not doing this because I like you. I'm doing it to prove to Jesse that I can totally take care of his friends, even the pathetic, sad loser-types."

"And I'm a pathetic, sad loser-type," Buffy guessed, pokerfaced.

"Exactly." Cordy nodded. "You know, Buffy, you used to have potential. I even thought that you could be one of the good ones. Your sense of style isn't totally hopeless, and you're not an annoying sycophant like Colleen or Cari." At Buffy's startled look, she tossed her hair. "What? I'm popular, not stupid. Anyway, you were one of my top picks for our year until you started hanging with Faith. That's pretty much a reputation killer. Then you couldn't just go be average like everyone else, so now everyone hates you."

"I thought everyone hates me because I hang out with Willow?" Buffy ventured.

"Yeah, that too. Seriously, Willow? Even _you _could do better." Cordy shrugged. "But I guess you're the most bearable of all of Jesse's friends, so you get to hang out with me!" she said cheerfully.

"Aren't I lucky," Buffy said sardonically.

"Oh, you are," Cordy said with certainty. "Come on, everyone's here already."

Colleen, Caridad, Eve, Chloe, and Annabelle were all already seated at a round table in the back corner of the café when they arrived, and they all looked to their queen expectantly, confusion spreading across their faces when they spotted her companion. "What's _she_ doing here?" Eve asked with distaste.

"She's with me," Cordy said confidently, pulling over another chair for Buffy. "We like Buffy again."

"Excuse me?" Chloe said doubtfully. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cordy raised an eyebrow. "Don't make me repeat it," she said scornfully. "Do you even listen when I talk?"

Colleen stood up, quivering a bit with apprehension. "You brought Jesse McNally to our dorm last night. And didn't leave till morning."

Cordy flushed almost imperceptibly, quickly hiding it with her standard disdain. "Yeah? What's your point?"

"He's _Willow's_ friend. And one of the worst of the watchers," Annabelle pointed out. "And now you're making nice with Buffy?"

"There are some things that even you can't do, Cordy!" Caridad chimed in. "You crossed a line to watcher country, and now you're, like, Buffy Junior!"

There were emphatic agreements from the rest of the girls, and Colleen slowly, shakily, stood up and pulled the last two chairs from the table. The other girls filled out the table, taking extra space and huddling together to pointedly ignore Cordy.

"You can't do this!" Cordy said, outraged. "I'm Cordy! I'm in charge! You listen to _me_! I'm _Cordy_!"

Buffy patted her shoulder. "Come on, Cordy. Let's get out of here."

The other girl shook her head. "No! I'm…this isn't…I'm _Cordy_!" she said again.

"Yeah, you are."

"I'm better than this!"

"There you go."

"I am _out_ of here."

"Lead the way."

* * *

The werewolf's wife was large, busty, and carried around a handkerchief that she seemed to wave around quite a bit. "It was_dreadful_," she told them, wiping at her eyes and blowing her nose flamboyantly. "All these years, and he repays me by sleeping with that floozy Rita! I have on good authority that those things are fake as they come," she informed them. "And the way she looked at him…" She shuddered. "To think that he was taken in by her wiles! Why, I never!"

"It sounds positively dreadful," Ethan said, bored.

"It was! And oh, how the neighbors gossiped!" She blew her nose again, and Giles winced at the sound, like a foghorn in the silence of the ocean. "I couldn't confide in any of them anymore! There was only one woman at church, a new arrival, I think, who'd listen to me without telling her friends. It's so difficult to find friends here, yes? The women are so grounded to their circles of friends, and poor Anya was left almost completely ignored!" Giles's blood ran cold. "I always try to be welcoming to the new girls, bless them," the woman revealed, not noticing the grim expressions that had settled on both men's faces.

"I told Anya about Howard, about what he'd done. I said, I said I wished that he could understand how hard it was for me! How yes, sometimes I'm not as attractive or as ready to have sex as he is, but you know, he should see how it feels to be that different for a few days a month! He'd never have left me if he understood that," she declared. "That Anya, sweet girl, she understood!"

"I'm sure she did," Giles said softly. "We're going to leave now."

Ethan went back to the hospital to pick up the afflicted man and bring him to the jet, and Giles headed back to the Academy, his steps heavier and more difficult than ever before.

It had been easier to ignore what Anya did rather than confront her about it; it was in her nature, after all, and something he couldn't change. But he'd been weak for letting it go, for giving Anya a reprieve she didn't deserve for the havoc she gleefully wreaked. And now a student had paid for it. Now Oz was forever doomed to the life of a werewolf and Xander Harris, who had shown such promise and for whom Giles had had a bit of a soft spot, was gone as well. The Academy was in chaos, and who knew how many others the werewolf had harmed along the way? Who knew how many murders Giles had condoned by accepting Anya s demon heritage?

He pushed open the door to his apartment and froze. Anya was cleaning up the books he'd left scattered on the table, singing to herself as she did, tucking away each book and giving it a pat to make sure it was secure in its place. Oh, god, he loved her rituals, her fastidiousness, the way she danced as she sang and sang as she worked and tried _so hard_ to act as a typical human housewife because she thought it would endear herself to him.

He loved her so much.

She turned to frown at him, the smile still in his eyes. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked, and he moved to her instantly, to kiss her deeply and hold her close, the tiny, delicate little thing that she was so easily encompassed by his embrace. He kissed her like they had no tomorrow, like there was nothing left but the two of them, like she was all that was life and made life living for, and he was bidding her adieu at last.

She pulled away from him to fix worried eyes onto his. "What's wrong?" she asked quietly, searchingly. And then she saw it in his gaze and took a step back, her eyes tearing up. "Rupert? No…you aren't…"

"You turned that man into a werewolf," he said hoarsely. "You caused one of my students to be harmed."

She stared at him uncomprehendingly. "I did my job," she said simply. "I grant wishes."

"You _hurt_ people. You hurt Howard, and Oz, who was entrusted into my care. His family…his classmates…the other watchers…they trust me to take care of these children, and I betrayed them. I brought evil into my school…into my _bed_."

Fat, silent tears were rolling down Anya's face, but Giles didn't stop, couldn't. Not anymore. "You need to leave my school, my world. You're nothing but a demon."

"Rupert!" She reached for him, but he forced himself to push her away, to avoid her pleading gaze. "Please! Don't leave me! Don't…"

He crossed the room in four long strides and moved to open the door. "Goodbye, Anya," he whispered, and she snapped her fingers to teleport away, her eyes widening in despair when nothing happened. "You won't be able to enter or exit the building like a demon anymore," he said quietly, unable to meet her imploring eyes. "And I'd rather you don't return here in any way."

"Rupert!" He closed his eyes, refusing to respond. She was standing right in front of him now, her presence so close that he had only to reach out to touch her, and he kept his arms firm at their sides. "Rupert, please!"

He waited, waited until she'd left, a sobbing muddle of fury and despair who wept and begged for him to return to her. He stayed silent, unswayed, though it nearly killed him.

And when the sound of her tears finally faded, he closed the door and sank to the ground, the pain of loss overwhelming him.


	36. Chapter 36

"This way."

"Are you certain?"

"This is the first place where we were able to lock a spell onto. If he's around, he's finally left the school."

"About bloody time!"

Xander flattened himself against the tree he was clinging to, praying silently, _Don't look up, don't look up, don't look up…_

Clearly, it had been a mistake to leave the campus, even if it had been to get something to eat, but he'd thought that the jet was gone, that Giles had given up on trying to find him. It had been almost three days, after all. But he'd been wrong. Giles had called the Council on him, and now watchers he'd never seen before were hunting him down with magic at which he'd never been proficient enough to counter.

He glanced back toward the Academy mansion, its roof just high enough to stand out among the other buildings, and thought longingly of going back, of seeing his friends, of… _hell, even sitting in class and fighting with the slayers_! But he couldn't go back, not anymore, and he had no idea where to go next or what to do with his life. All he'd ever known was training to be a watcher; it was the only ambition he had, and now he was completely, utterly lost.

A group of younger slayers walked by, stopping to laugh at the watchers fumbling with their books under the tree. A leaf landed on one of them- Renee, he thought her name was- and she brushed it off, squinting upward at the tree that had shed it. He edged backward, but she'd already spotted him curled against the branch. _Damn!_ But she didn't say anything, just glanced at the watchers, glanced back up at him, and looked back to her friends worriedly.

_Willow,_ he mouthed to her. _Wil-low,_ he tried again, hoping against hope that she'd get his message and summon Willow, who'd definitely be able to block the watchers' spells. But no, she'd already given up and walked away with her friends, back in the direction of the Academy.

He gritted his teeth in frustration. Maybe he shouldn't have bothered with Willow, and he should have asked for someone else, someone a slayer might have spoken to. Like Cordy, who would have gone to Jesse, who would undoubtedly help him. Buffy would have tried, too. He grinned faintly. Buffy would probably have sicced her pet vampire on the school or something equally absurd, knowing her. Hell, he'd even take Kennedy or Eve at this point.

Or…He licked his lips in sudden contemplation. _Faith_. He'd thought of little else over the past few days. She'd said before that she had a boyfriend, but then she'd gone gallivanting through town with Jesse, and she certainly didn't seem reluctant when they'd kissed. His smile grew. Faith had let him kiss her, and she hadn't run, hadn't slapped him or mocked him or shot him down. And maybe it had just been a goodbye, but it hadn't felt like that at all.

He'd never admitted that he had had feelings for Faith to anyone. Willow hated Faith, maybe even more than she did Cordelia, and it would have killed her to find out. Jesse probably would have told Willow, and though Oz wouldn't have, he never even asked about it. Xander didn't know when it had started, when the wariness had been replaced for admiration and the dislike had been replaced with desire, when Faith had stopped being Buffy's overly aggressive roommate and started being the girl he wanted to- not save, that sounded far too presumptuous, but help. Be there for her, understand her, be her friend and support and have her be the same for him…he knew she could, saw what was hidden just beneath the surface, saw the vulnerability and kindness and yearning to be loved, and he saw himself in it, too.

Of course, _she_ wasn't the one who'd needed saving in the end; instead, she'd been trying to save him from himself all along. And he hadn't listened, so caught up in his need for adventure, his need to _do_something that he'd finally gone too far.  
_  
No. Honesty time. I went too far the moment I went after that first vampire, _he admitted silently. There was a reason why potentials were forbidden to fight outside of school, a reason why they were never allowed to go very far from the Academy. That rush, that feeling of accomplishment he'd gotten after the first time a vampire had turned to dust in front of him, was an addiction, something he'd never been able to resist. Every victory had spurred him deeper down a path he'd never been meant to take. And Oz had suffered for it, the school had suffered for it, Willow and Cordy and Jesse had suffered for it…

He closed his eyes. He'd been a fool, and now everyone was paying the price. And it was time for him to stop dwelling and to leave the school and move on, far from where he could cause any more damage.

Except…  
_  
"I'm glad you won't be here when it happens." Faith's lips against his, her eyes soft and her words softer, words he hadn't considered, so dazed as he'd been from all that had happened, and Faith…just Faith…  
_  
When _what_ happened?

What wasn't Faith telling him?

Below him, one of the watchers jumped up suddenly. "This is impossible!" he announced. "According to the spell I've just done, the escapee is now on the other side of town."

"How'd he get there so quickly?"

"Never mind that," a third said sharply. "We'll need to hurry."

They were gone moments later, and Xander breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe Renee had gotten a message to Willow, after all.

He lowered himself from the tree and headed back toward the Academy, climbing into the closest manhole that led to the sewers under the school. He couldn't leave yet.

Not until he knew that Faith wasn't as lost as he was.

* * *

"Who'd you fight today?" Faith asked, tugging off her jumpsuit as soon as they reached the locker rooms. The sweat-slicked material stuck to her as she pulled, and she made a face, reaching for her towel.

Buffy shrugged. "I think his name was James. He wasn't that bad. You?"

"Penn." Faith winced. Penn was an Aurelian, his cell the one after Angelus's, and while he was generally more silent than the other ones, today he'd been merciless, mocking her failures and her overall weakness, even raising the supervising watcher's suspicions before he toned it down. Angelus wanted the key, and didn't want her to return until she had it; that she knew for certain now. And damn, but it was disappointing to realize just how weak she'd gotten compared to Buffy, who'd been able to beat Penn a few days previous.  
_  
Well, if I had a personal vamp trainer, I'd have kicked his ass, too, _she decided.

"No luck?" Buffy said sympathetically.

Faith schooled her features to appear nonchalant. "Nah. Maybe next time."

"Yeah." Buffy stepped into one of the showers. "Hey, guess what Willow told me?"

"What?" Faith followed her into the shower. Buffy rolled her eyes and pushed her out, and she moved to the next one instead. "She still capable of speech?"

"Ha bloody ha." Willow had been disconsolate lately, missing classes and avoiding all her friends except Buffy. She wouldn't talk to Tara, blamed Jesse when she couldn't Xander and Oz, and spent most of her free time alone in her room or whispering to Buffy on Buffy's bed while Faith pretended to do her homework instead of having to deal with the awkwardness. "No, it's about Xander."

Faith perked up. "Xander?"

Buffy gave her a knowing smile. "One of the younger slayers saw him hiding from the watchers while they were doing locator spells, and he asked her to get Willow's help. She threw them off his scent for now."

"I told him to stay under the school," Faith muttered, but she couldn't quite wipe the smile off her face at the thought of him. "Idiot." _He'd kissed her, the first real kiss she'd ever really gotten, and though her heart belonged to Angelus, Xander was…well, he was kinda tolerable, and she didn't completely hate him. Mm. Nope, she didn't hate him._

Buffy's grin widened. "You really like him, don't you?"

"Shut up," she mumbled, touching her lips and remembering his softness on them.

Buffy shook her head. "Lucky you, two guys who are crazy about you and the one guy-vampire- I… he still won't let me come down there, will he." It wasn't a question.

Faith shook her head apologetically. "I don't think so. But he doesn't talk to me, really. I just see Angelus down there."

"Oh." Buffy bit her lip. "Right." She leaned against the shower wall, her eyes troubled. "It's not like our relationship is a…relationship, anyway," she said finally. "We fight. That's all. And if Spike actually wanted anything more, he'd let me come to him. I just thought…" Her voice trailed off, but Faith understood.

"Yeah." They finished their showers in silence, Buffy's shoulders still slumped and her movements slow, and Faith patted her on the shoulder, letting her hands slide under Buffy's towel and down her chest teasingly. To her surprise, Buffy didn't pull away, just stood silently and let her wrap her hands around her breasts, and Faith let go of them, confused. "What's wrong, B?"

And for the first time, Faith looked- really looked- at her friend's eyes, at the confusion and depression and worry in them, the insecurities and overwhelming fear, and Faith was suddenly afraid. Buffy was the strong one, even though Faith liked to put up a tough front, and she wasn't easily shattered, not for anything or anyone…not even the vampire she'd grown so attached to. "What happened to you?"

Buffy dropped her gaze. "Nothing. I'm just…I just don't know anymore." She grabbed her bra and pulled it on, reaching for her underwear and change of clothing while Faith watched her motionlessly.

"B…" Then the door to the locker room banged open, and Cordy flew in, eyeing them both suspiciously. "I didn't interrupt some lesbian stuff, did I?"

"Faith and I are just friends," Buffy said tiredly. "What do you want, Cordy?"

Cordelia tossed her hair. "The girls are still giving me the silent treatment. Can you imagine? _Me?_"

"Hard to believe," Faith said, smirking.

Cordy ignored her. "Anyway, since this is all your fault, you're going to have to hang out with me at all times, so that they don't think I-" She shuddered ostentatiously. "_Don't have friends,_" she finished.

"I don't-"

"Come on," Cordy ordered. "You're going to need to do something with that hair if you're ever going to be good enough for me." She walked out of the room, her head high.

Buffy looked at Faith helplessly. Faith shrugged. "In cases like this, I think you just say, 'yes ma'am' and hope that she'll give up on you quickly."

Buffy sighed. "Seems that way. See you later."

"See you," Faith said, unbothered. Cordy wasn't Willow, and Faith was certain that Buffy would rather not spend time with her, so there was none of that nagging jealousy…just worry.  
_  
I'm so glad that Angelus loves me,_ she thought gratefully. _He'd never leave me broken like Spike has Buffy._

And he was counting on her, so she hurried to finish dressing and to find Giles. He might not have another skeleton key, but he must have had an actual key that fit the Aurelius lock. And if it was between stealing from Giles or one of those creepy special ops watchers, she'd take Giles any day.

* * *

"Faith." Giles looked up from the papers on his desk, tucking something brightly colored underneath them as he did. He looked haggard, weary. "Is there something I can do for you?"

"Uh…" Faith chewed on her lip. "Can I sit down?"

"Certainly."

She took a seat, peeking over at the paper he'd hidden, still poking out underneath. It was a photograph, only a pair of eyes and a shock of blond hair visible from Faith's angle. "Hey, is that Anya?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Giles said stiffly, moving to hide the photo.

She snatched it from his hands anyway, glancing down at Anya's smiling face, her eyes dancing with joy and her mouth open as though she'd been about to speak when the photographer had snapped the picture- or, knowing Anya, had been speaking already. "Something wrong with your honey, Giles?"

"Did you have something you wanted to discuss, Faith?" Giles took the picture back, shutting it into one of his drawers.

Faith shrugged carelessly. "Not really, no. What's the deal with Anya? She away or something?"

"If you must know, we're no longer together," Giles said testily. "Is there anything else?"

"Yeah." Faith glanced around the room surreptitiously. Huh. No locked security cabinets or drawers that she could see. Yet. "Uh…I'm worried. About Willow!" she finished proudly.

"Willow? Yes, Miss Calendar has been speaking to her. This whole situation has left her at a loss." Giles steepled his fingers. "I'll admit, I wasn't aware that you were friends with her, as well."

Faith waved her hand airily. "Well, you know, Buffy's friends are my friends," she lied. What was in that case under the window? Oh, just the radiator.

Giles blinked. "Actually, I was referring to Xander."

"Oh." A flush climbed up onto her cheeks. "What about him?"

Giles looked at her with sharp eyes, and her cheeks reddened even more. "Is he alright?" he asked quietly.

Faith shook her head. "I don't know. I haven't seen him since…since he left." She looked up. "Wait. You let him go?"

"Of course not!" Giles said in a strained voice. "I understand that consequences are necessary when a student is put at such great risk, regardless of how difficult it may be in the long run, for them or the rest of us. Certain actions can _never_ be tolerated, even when a loved one is the one to have committed it-"

"Wait, wait, wait." Faith held up a hand. "Loved one? Look, just because Xander and I-" She froze at the look of abject misery on Giles's face. "We're not talking about Xander, are we?"

Giles started. "Pardon?"

"Anya, huh?" Faith tore her eyes away from Giles's briefcase. "What did she do?"

Giles stared straight ahead. "Enough, Faith."

"Was it the whole demony thing? Because she was pretty crappy at hiding it. Did Travers find out?"

"Faith…"

Faith scowled at the briefcase. This wasn't going to work while Giles was in the room. She held up a hand. "It's cool, I won't tell anyone. Anya was pretty okay."

Giles nodded. "Ah…thank you. She was," he said finally.

"You know what you should do?" Faith suggested. "You need to get over her. So you find some hot chick, get laid, and have some crazy rebound sex…or, you know, take her out to dinner," she added hastily, remembering who she was talking to.

But Giles was nodding attentively. "Yes, that sounds…quite wise. Thank you, Faith."

"Glad to help," Faith said, her thoughts already back on the key. "See you around, Giles."

"Faith?" She turned. "Would you…ah, ask Miss Calendar to meet me in my office on your way out?"


	37. Chapter 37

Willow's eyes were firmly glued to the pages of the book in front of her, the faintest of blushes tinting her cheeks. She tore herself away for a moment to peek at Tara, who was sitting in the next seat and staring with unseeing eyes at the pages in front of her. They held themselves stiffly, side-by-side and yet miles away, and Willow wrapped her arms around herself to stave off the awkwardness.

"You two." Ethan scowled at them. "Your magic is in pieces today. Fix it."

Amy smirked. Willow flushed darker. Tara stared resolutely at the ground.

Ethan sighed. "All right, then. Amy and I are leaving." He stood, gesturing for the third witch to follow him. "I don't want to see either of you leaving this room until that frog is alive and kicking."

"R-r-resurrection spells!" Tara said, aghast. "But that's d-dark magic!"

Ethan ignored her in their exeunt. Willow shrugged, eyeing the dead frog in front of them with unease. "We'll make it work."

"You're g-going to do the magic?" There was disappointment in Tara's voice, disappointment that made Willow squirm uneasily and look away from her.

She bit her lip. "Ethan said-"

"Ethan's _wrong_." Tara's hands were tight on her thighs, clenching into them so hard that Willow had to suppress the urge to remove them and take them into her hands. And she wasn't going to look at Tara's thighs, not when they were so close and _god, this isn't me at all_.

"Probably," Willow admitted reluctantly, turning away from Tara. "But we're his students. It's not our job to second-guess him."

"W-Willow…" Tara bit her lip. "Can we talk? Please?"

Willow refused to look back at her. "No. I think it's all been said already."

"N-No!" Tara reached out to put a hand on Willow's knee. Willow recoiled. "It r-really, really hasn't. And I miss you."

"I'm not a lesbian," Willow said coolly. "It's not going to happen."

"I-it doesn't have to." When Willow turned back, she saw that Tara's eyes were welling up with tears. "I m-miss you. Not like _that_, but being your friend, talking to you…I just want to be your friend."

"My friend." Willow shook her head. "Tara, honestly, how do you feel about me?"

Tara shook her head, her eyes red and swollen and her face bright red, her lips tightly pressed together.

"Tara…"

"I-I'm in love with you," Tara blurted out in a rush of words. "But it doesn't have to matter! I've been your friend for this long, I can keep doing it! I know you're not…it would never…" Tears were spilling out of her eyes, and Willow couldn't do it anymore, couldn't hold herself back while her onetime friend was in so much pain, so she wrapped her arms around Tara and pulled the sobbing girl into her embrace. Tara shook, Willow closed her eyes, and the two girls stayed together as one.

_What am I doing?_ Willow thought, quietly frantic. _Tara's head is pressed against my chest; that's practically inviting her to…_ Her mind went to thoughts of Tara sucking and biting, her fingers on her nipples and her lips just above that, teasing Willow as the redhead bucked against the other girl. _Oh, god. I need to stop this._

She pushed Tara away abruptly, nearly knocking her to the floor. "I can't!" she said plaintively, brushing off her shirt in a self-conscious gesture.

"Jesse and Xander are attracted to girls," Tara pointed out, the sobs subsiding to be replaced by that look of hers, the one that seemed to see right through Willow, and Willow backed up even more. "You're still friends with them."

"That's different." _I don't have any thoughts like this about them. Well, not recently, anyway. _"And you never told me that you were…that you were gay!"

"You never asked," Tara said simply.

"But…" Willow struggled to find the right words. They never came. "Did you ever want to be my friend?"

Tara looked away. "Willow, I want whatever you'll give me."

Willow squeezed her eyes shut. "I want…" She shook her head. "No. We can be friends, but nothing more. It's…um…it's flattering that you…but no. Just no."

Tara nodded earnestly, and Willow forced a smile, vowing inwardly that she was going to distance herself from the other witch. This couldn't go on any longer.

* * *

One week had passed. One long, agonizing week of watching Anya lurking around town, never granting wishes- or so she'd claimed, the one time he'd demanded answers from her- and gazing at him with soft, sorrowful eyes. One week of Anya's face lurking in his dreams and her lips lingering on his skin, and one week of waking up in a cold, empty bed and reaching for a woman who was no longer there.

Oh, yes, and one week since he'd decided to end things, and one day since he'd had a lovely dinner with Jenny Calendar. She'd been remarkably understanding of his melancholy and nearly broken him out of it on several occasions during the meal, and he was looking forward to a second date.

Anya's face hovered in his mind's eye, bright and cheery and honest, innocent and yet world-wise, youthful and yet young, and it took all his mental control to force her away again. She'd be heartbroken if she knew that he'd gone out with another woman, that he'd even given her a kiss- albeit on the cheek, he was a gentleman, after all- at the end of it. Giles had even had to do a brief spell to ensure that Anya wouldn't come near them during the course of the date. He wasn't capable of hurting her any more than he already had, not when his heart was still so tightly connected to hers.

…And there it was again, the thoughts of Anya permeating his mind until she was all he could think of, all he could dream of…

"Rupert?" Jenny's voice came as a welcome distraction, and he turned from the window of his office to give her a smile. "You okay?"

"Quite," he lied.

"Uh-huh." She raised an eyebrow skeptically. "I've known you fifteen years, Rupert, since I was a mere watcher-in-training and you became principal of the Academy. I know when you're not okay."

He smiled wryly. "I've been thinking."

"Oh?" She moved to stand beside him, flashing smiling dark eyes at him. "Whatever about?"

"About what a wonderful time I had last night." Giles 's smile softened, even as Anya's face in his mind stared at him, aghast. "I'd love to take you out again."

Jenny's smile faded, just a bit, and Giles's was suddenly filled with apprehension. "But you aren't interested."

She shook her head. "Of course I am. You're intelligent, a good man…and pretty sexy for your age," she added, tossing him a wink before she grew serious again. "But…"

"But?"

She smiled sadly. "Rupert, I'm not that kind of woman. I can't be with a man who's so clearly in love with someone else."

"In…in love?" Giles stuttered. Anya's face reappeared, smug and with that I-told-you-so look she'd always gotten that used to frustrate him so. "I'm not…"

"A woman always knows," Jenny murmured. "Though I'd have thought that if you had someone, you might have mentioned it earlier. Bad breakup?"

"Not as such." Giles sighed. "It's complicated."

"It always is." She gave him a soft kiss on the cheek. "Hang in there, Rupert. And look me up if you ever get over her."

She exited the office and he rushed for his desk, grabbed the photo of Anya he had stowed in his drawer and glared at it with fury._ Over. It's over._ A murmured word set it aflame and he watched as they consumed the image, rising up from the bottom of the photo to turn it to ash. _Over!_

When the flames reached Anya's face, though, he couldn't bear it anymore and flung it back down, beating at the fire with his hands until it was all gone, the bottom of the picture ruined but Anya's smile still intact just above the charred remains of the rest. He closed his eyes and pressed it to his heart. _It'll never be over,_ he concluded gloomily. _Damn that woman._

* * *

She leaned against the wall, her eyes closed and her lips tightly pressed together in mild disapproval. It didn't matter what they threw at her. It didn't matter what she was forced into. She knew that there would be a vampire in the next room, awaiting her battle, but she couldn't do this. Not anymore. She'd had enough of it, of the fighting faceless opponents and occasionally coming out on top, of the days after day of new battles and never with the one she wanted, of never coming up against a real challenge, not when she'd already fought the best, had been with the best, and now…

"Buffy?" Gunn poked his head into the locker room. "We're ready for you." He paused, eyeing her worriedly. "You okay?"

She shrugged. "It's just…it's not fun anymore."

"Fun?"

Buffy sighed. "Don't tell me. Slayers aren't supposed to have _fun_. We're just supposed to fight, and kill, and die. Right?"

Gunn shook his head. "Of course you're supposed to have fun, Buffy. You're good at this. You know what you're doing. A bored slayer is a careless one, and we never meant for you to become so blasé about the fighting."

She gave him a look. "What did you expect? You gave me the best to begin with, and now you're putting me against lesser masters. It stopped being fun a long time ago."

"You don't always win," Gunn pointed out.

"I don't have slayer strength," Buffy countered. "But I bet that if I did, or if you gave me weapons on the game floor, I'd be able to beat them all. Except maybe Darla," she said, making a face. "And that Lothos guy had that annoying thrall thing, and what was up with Dracula's dusty-not-dusty routine? I didn't even have a wooden stake on me and he still kept it up!" She nodded. "But other than that…yeah. I used to like the fight. Now it's just becoming so...empty."

Gunn regarded her silently for a while before he finally ventured, "Is it Spike?"

She stared at the ground. "It was a dance. That's what he always called it, and I never really understood." She looked up suddenly, seeking out Gunn's gaze. "But then you took my dancing partner away, and now there's nothing left."

"Buffy…" Gunn moved to sit on the bench opposite her. "You understand why you can't fight with Spike all the time, don't you?"

She shrugged. "You say it's because I'll get too used to him."

"And what do you think?"

"I think you're afraid I'll get too attached. But I won't! I'm not-" He gave her a skeptical look. "Okay, I'm lying. I would. I am," she admitted, squeezing her hands into fists. "But why does that matter? I'm not stupid. I know he's a vampire. He's just perfectly matched for me, for my training, and when you take him away, I'm not going to be at my best."

"I know." Gunn heaved a sigh. "I know, Buffy. Now please, come on into the training room."

Buffy rolled her eyes. _Did he hear anything I just said?_ But she followed him obediently onto the game floor, her gait weary and defeated and her eyes reluctantly sliding over to where the vampire awaited her… and stopping at that pale smirk, the amused blue gaze, the bleached blond hair… "S-Spike?"

He grinned. "Hello, gorgeous."

Instinctively, thoughtlessly, she barreled across the floor toward him; her stake out and in her hand, outstretched toward him and up against his heart before a very surprised Spike could move to block her.

Gunn shook his head. "Game floor, both of you. And Buffy, that doesn't count as a win."

She ignored him, her eyes dark and locked with Spike's. "I hate you," she spat out.

He cocked his head. "You're not still upset that I told you to stay away, are you?"

She pushed the stake inwards just a bit, feeling it break the skin with little concern. "Shut up."

He shrugged, a swift kick to her shins throwing her backward and onto the game floor. The barriers went up immediately, and Spike began a quick attack, aiming punches and kicks at her until she was trapped against the wall, Spike on either side of her, his hands pressed against the wall and enclosing her on either side. "If it's any consolation," he murmured, smiling, "I missed you, too."

She flung him backward, a flush building in her cheeks, and ducked away before he could swing again. "Yeah, you had a great way of showing it," she said coldly, measuring his weight and throwing him with a quick move on his next approach.

He landed on his back, bent his knees, and flipped back upward. "I don't want you down there, love. That's all."

"Don't call me that!" she demanded, jumping at him, wrapping her legs around him for traction and smashing her head against his. Spike staggered backwards woozily and she hung onto him for dear life, landing on top of him when he finally fell back to the ground.

He kneed her off of him automatically, and she stumbled back to her feet, falling into one of the more standard battle stances, fists raised and legs set. He shook his head. "Whatever you say, pet."

"Stop it!" She hurtled back at him, raining blows at his chest and face, not noticing that he wasn't defending himself until purplish bruises started blooming on his face.

He squinted at her, confused. "Stop what?"

She let her fists fall to her sides and closed her eyes. "Acting like you actually like me."

"I do like you," he protested, glancing warily over at their audience. Buffy followed his gaze. The Spike fan club had stopped coming to Buffy's matches a while ago, once they'd realized that the object of their affections wasn't going to be there anymore, and Faith, who'd been the only slayer present, had engaged Gunn in animated conversation. In fact… she frowned. Was Faith_flirting_ with Gunn? She wouldn't put it past her, but Faith had never shown much interest in Gunn, not the handsy kind that she was doing now, and even Gunn seemed a bit bemused by the whole thing.

"Buffy…"

She turned to look at Spike again. "What?"

He sighed. "I wanted to keep you away from the other vampires. They're not as fond of you as I am, pet. They wouldn't take kindly to your being there."

"They seem pretty okay with Faith," Buffy pointed out.

He was silent, his hands resting lightly on her waist as he lost himself in thoughts Buffy couldn't fathom, his forehead wrinkled in contemplation and his eyes wracked with conflict. "Angelus allows it."

"So Angelus can allow me, too. He's your buddy, right?"

"_No_!" Spike growled, his eyes flashing yellow for a moment. "Stay away from him! He'll…"

"He'll what, Spike?" She folded her arms. "What can he possibly do to me that he wouldn't do to Faith?"

He let go of her, taking a step back reluctantly. "Buffy, it's not safe for you. And it's not safe for Faith, either."

She stared at him, at a loss. "But you said… you _said_ it was! You promised me!"

He shook his head. "Why do you trust me, Buffy? Never trust a vampire, isn't that what you're taught?"

"I didn't trust 'a vampire,'" she retorted. "I trusted _you_."

He looked away. "You shouldn't."

"No." This was all too overwhelming, the knowledge of Spike's betrayal and of the danger threatening Faith, the thoughts of vampires and slayers and how much could go wrong between them. "I can't believe you! I can't…I'm out of here." She turned to the watcher-in-training on duty standing silently in the back corner of the room. "Take down the barrier," she ordered.

Gunn looked up from his conversation with Faith, surprise on his face. "You're done already?"

"No," Spike said, scowling.

Buffy smiled sweetly at him and took a step forward to hold his face in hers. He grinned sheepishly and closed his eyes, confident in her forgiveness, almost purring as she rubbed her fingers against his temples gently… and then she smashed his head downward to her neck. "Now we are," she announced, shoving him away.

Gunn frowned. "Buffy-"

"Take down the barrier!" she repeated, and the watcher finally obeyed. She tossed one furious glare back at Spike and then she was gone, Faith trotting off behind her.

* * *

Gunn shook his head ruefully. "Spike, what did you say to the girl?" he muttered. "She's been waiting to fight you again for nearly a month, and you've already managed to chase her off?"

Spike shrugged moodily, glaring out into space.

Gunn sighed. "Well, I told the special ops watcher to go. I figured that you two would be fighting long into the night, not finishing so early. It's barely dark out." He considered. "Tell you what. I could use a good workout; we'll do some sparring, and I'll take you back later tonight. Get some use out of you while you're still out here." He slid his hand into his pocket for the key to the Aurelius cells, frowning when it came out empty. Huh. He could've sworn that he'd grabbed it before he left.

Oh, well. It was probably just sitting on his desk in his office. He'd pick it up later. 


	38. Chapter 38

My unending thanks go to those of you who've stuck by the story until now. Your feedback and comments mean the world to me. :) I've nearly finished the fic (we're looking at about 60 chapters), and I'd like to post a bit more often- anyone up for three updates a week? :)

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"Argh!" Buffy heaved a punch at the punching bag in front of her. "Stupid…vampire!" She gasped out, attacking it with both her feet at once, then flipping backwards to land in a crouch in front of it before she began her attack in earnest again. "Bastard! Asshole! Son of a-" She stopped abruptly, letting her hands fall to her sides and letting herself fall forward, sinking against the bag. "I hate this," she murmured. "I _hate_ this."

He'd lied to her. And she'd believed him, because he was Spike and she…she cared about him. _I am such an idiot,_ she thought ruefully. _How could I possibly believe that he was…that he…He's not-_

"Human," she finished aloud, staring at the punching bag with eyes dark with weariness. "He's a monster. And I keep forgetting that."

She heaved a weary sigh and left for the showers, determinedly thinking about anything _but_ Spike. Willow. Xander. Faith. Heck, even Cordelia! And Faith had told her a few days ago that Giles had broken off things with Anya, so she let herself wonder about them, too, and how they were coping. They'd _loved_ each other, more than anything Buffy'd ever known, more than she remembered her parents loving each other or the scattered teenage romances that cropped up among the students, and knowing that made everything else seem cheaper, less urgent.

_What was I hoping for, even when I did think that Spike and I had something together?_ she wondered, her thoughts moving back to Spike as they were wont to do. Some torrid teenage affair? I'm sixteen, and he's an adult vampire. If Anya and Giles couldn't make it work, then how could I possibly think it would? Not to mention that he's in a cell…in the basement…

She froze, her eyes widening as she remembered the second half of Spike's warning. She'd ignored it, so caught up in the hurt of betrayal that nothing else had seemed quite as dire, not even his admission that Angelus was dangerous. To Faith. Who was probably on her way down there, even now.

She hurried out of the shower, not even bothering to put on her full uniform before she tore out of the room, her heart pounding with fear and worry. Faith was in trouble, and she was so self-absorbed that she was going to let the danger come and-

She crashed into a hard, black-clad chest and took a step backwards, blinking up at the familiar face with uncertainty. "Spike."

"Buffy." He caught her by the arms, his eyes softening and (though he tried to hide it, uncharacteristic as that was) running downward to glance down her tank top. "What are you doing here?"

"What are _you_ doing here?" she retorted.

He jerked his thumb to the right, where Gunn stood warily. "On my way downstairs."

"Oh." Her shoulders sagged with relief. If Faith was already down there, Gunn would find her and it would all be over. Good.

Spike opened his mouth to say something, and she looked away from him, unwilling to let him see the hurt on her face. "Pet…"

"Let's go," Gunn cut him off impatiently. "Good night, Buffy."

"Night," she said quietly, watching them go, Spike turning to glance back at her with an unreadable gaze.

She didn't understand him. She really didn't, and it was beginning to frustrate her more than she would have thought possible. How could he act like that, be so _nice_ and yet so cruel? How could he put her best friend in mortal danger but refuse to do the same for her, even when it made her hate him?

_Except I don't hate him_, she thought heavily as she trudged up the stairs. _I wish I could. It would make things easier. _

How was it that a vampire could turn her whole world upside down?

She pushed open the door to her dorm room, opening her mouth to tell Faith that they needed to talk, and froze.

Faith was still there, her eyes bright and alive as she applied the last touches of makeup to them and turned to face her. "Hey, B." She'd showered recently, straightened her hair, put on softer makeup than she generally wore…and was that jewelry? Yes, it was a real silver necklace and earrings that lent her a mature look instead of her more typical risqué one, jewelry Buffy had never seen on Faith before.

Buffy swallowed. "What are you doing?"

Faith flashed her a brilliant smile. "Getting ready for a hot date, can't you tell?"

"With who?" Buffy asked warily, taking a step forward and closing the door.

"Who do you think?" Faith winked carelessly. She looked happy, happier than she had in a long time, and Buffy's stomach churned to think of what she had to do next.

"Faith…"

"What?"

She took a deep breath. "Angelus isn't safe, not even for you. Spike says-"

"_Spike_?" Faith laughed. "B, Spike'll say anything to play the hero for you. He thinks the sun shines out of your ass, and this? Just another game for him so you'll think the same."

"Game? We're talking games?" Buffy demanded, feeling the worry wash up and overwhelm any warmth that had come from Faith's words. "You're going down to the basement! To meet a vampire who's definitely playing games with you!" She shook her head. "You're smarter than this, Faith!"

"And you're an idiot," Faith said coldly. "Angelus loves me."

"Angelus _wants_ you! That's not the same thing."

"It is to me." Faith turned away to grab something shiny- a key?- from her desk and headed toward the door.

Buffy scrambled to stop her. "Don't do this," she said rapidly. "It's not going to end well." Faith said nothing, just moved forward again, and Buffy shifted to block her. "This is your life we're talking about!" she said, exasperated.

"I know," Faith said quietly.

The blow came unexpectedly, so quickly and out of nowhere that Buffy didn't have a moment to block it. Her head crunched between Faith's fist and the wall with a sickening sound and she sank down, unconscious before she hit the ground.

Faith took a deep breath and stepped over her, looking anywhere but at the girl on the floor. No time for recriminations. She had things to do.

* * *

There was a little nook at the edge of the sewers where they cleared out, opening into a little round room that wasn't quite as wet and malodorous as the rest of the area. There was even a soft, mossy area at one end that made the perfect bed if you didn't mind the bugs, and the water level only rose around midday, so there was plenty of time to sleep in the very early morning. Which was what Xander was doing.

Xander was trying to make the best of things, especially now that he had an easy way into the school. His new home had an opening near its ceiling that eventually led into the vents, and Xander had been able to rig together some large stones into a stepstool and climb up there and into the vents. They headed above the school, over the underground floors, and if he wandered for long enough, he was able to make it into the kitchen and grab some food before he was noticed, and then head back to his lair.

Which was what he was doing right now, edging past sewage vents that looked down into the strange labs he'd never known existed, shuddering at the cries of pain as vampires were experimented on and tortured by men and women in long, white lab coats. He wondered if the rest of the staff knew about this, if Giles or Miss Calendar or Mr. Wyndham-Pryce could possibly accept the atrocities that went on below. _No_, he reminded himself glumly. _They're probably too focused on the atrocities that students commit in the school.  
_  
He wanted to see Oz more than anything now, to talk to him and swear that he'd never do it again, that he'd learned his lesson and knew better than to ever risk himself and others in meaningless pursuits again. Apologies seemed so cheap after something like they'd been through, and Oz would understand that- but Xander needed to _do_ something to help him. To make it all somehow okay.

But Oz was gone now, and nothing was ever going to be okay again.

He passed the labs and began navigating the sewers back to the nook, glancing down into the vampire cells to try to get back his bearings. Below and to the right was the one vampire he could pick out of a lineup, all bleached blond hair and disturbingly hollow cheekbones- Spike, whom he'd watched fight Buffy far too many times not to recognize. Which meant that he had to make a right at the next junction, so…

Wait. A vampire was speaking in low, dangerous tones. "You have the key," he was saying quietly, and Xander scurried over to the next vent, trying to catch sight of what was going on, some still-present intuition warning him that the vampire was up to nothing good. "Just open the door."

There was a murmured response, too low to hear, and Xander squinted through the darkness to try to spot the vampire speaking. There was a curvy brunette standing outside of the cage beside Spike's, her hand buried in her pocket and her head shaking slowly. A tall, bulky-looking vampire was standing close to her, just beyond the bars, his hands resting possessively on her hips to frame a small waist. The vampire spoke lowly. "Come inside, lover. This is what you want. This is what you've always wanted."

"Thrall not working so well?" a blonde vampiress asked him from Spike's cell.

He shook his head. "She's reluctant today. I don't know what's wrong with her."

"Her" was still standing there silently, a key in her shaking hand. She raised it for a moment- and though Xander couldn't see her face, he guessed that she was regarding it with apprehension- and tentatively unlocked the door, stepping into the cage.

Xander watched with fascination as the large vampire pulled her to him, kissing her with all the force and desperation of a wild man, and only then did she seem to react, molding herself against him. Whoever the girl was, she seemed to have gotten over her initial discomfort and was allowing the vampire to tear her shirt from her body and her bra from there, his hands running over her with clawing, hard hands.

_Whoa. I wonder how often this goes on, _Xander thought, and then the girl threw her head back, exposing her face as the vampire went for her breasts, and Xander stopped breathing. _Oh. Oh, god. Faith_. Faith was there, lost in a vampire's kisses and inside a vampire's cage, heedless of the danger that could arise. Faith was…_No. I can't watch this. _

But he couldn't tear his eyes away, not when Faith was so clearly far gone, and it was worse than he'd ever suspected. Sure, they joked that Buffy had a vampire boyfriend or which of the sexiest vampires were their favorites, but he'd never suspected that Faith would have ever actually come down here and break into a cage to _be_ with one of the creatures, not like this. She was always yelling at him for being reckless; but this…this was worse than anything he'd ever done.

The vampire reached for her pants with two hands, splitting them in half and letting them fall to the ground, and only then did Faith stiffen. "Wait."

Xander held his breath, longing to reach out for her and pull her to safety, but no, she was making that decision for herself. "I don't want to do this," she said quietly.

"Too late," the vampire said darkly, and he lunged forward, pinning Faith against the wall with a vicious growl, his face suddenly transformed from its human guise and his fangs at her throat.

"No. NO!" Faith cried out, kicking outward at him with her slayer training, but it wasn't enough, not when the vampire was so large and unafraid, and Xander reached for the crossbow strapped to his back, and fumbled with the vent to shove it open.

It gave way almost immediately, even as Faith's screams got louder. "No! Stop!" she shouted, trying to wriggle away. "Get the hell off of me! Help! HELP!"

There was a low titter from one of the other vampires, and the large vampire laughed, too, shoving her to the ground with easy strength and returning to her neck. "Dru! I need a hand here!" the vampire called out, his teeth sinking into Faith's throat, drinking with vicious savagery.

"Help me! Please! Someone!" Faith was crying now, large, fat tears escaping from her eyes, and Xander could think of little else but getting to her. White-hot rage filled his veins, directed at the vampire bent over her, and he took a step forward, crossbow in hand and aimed at the monster hurting her.

A shiver of motion to the scene's right caught his eye and he saw a woman emerge from the darkness of the back of the cell, her eyes hooded and hypnotic. She took a step forward-

-And a hand snaked out from the cell beside her and caught onto her arm. Spike looked up, his hand tight on the woman's wrist and his eyes dark and desperate. _Shoot him, you idiot, _Spike mouthed, and instinctively, Xander reached out with the crossbow, squeezed the trigger and let the long, plastic arrow fly free, straight through the bars of the cage and embedding into the vampire's back, just below the heart.

The vampire roared with agony, rearing backward and spinning around to find his attacker, and Xander ran into the cage with fleet-footed haste, pulling a limp, wide-eyed Faith from the ground and out with him before the vampire had recovered enough to stop him, ramming the door of the cage closed and fumbling through Faith's pocket for the key to the cage. He found it in moments, holding Faith up against him with one hand while he locked the cage with the other, and only once the vampires were safely locked in did Spike drop the woman's hand and mutter something soothing to her. She clawed at his face angrily, but Xander wasn't watching anymore, focusing instead on the nearly naked girl shivering in his arms. "Faith?" he murmured softly. "You here with me?"

She shook silently, little sobs escaping and tears spilling down her face, and he pulled her closer, backing around the corner to where the vampires were silent and letting her sink against him as she wept, so close that her tears were falling along his neck.

He kissed them away, his lips grazing the curve of her cheekbones and the arch of her nose, feathering kisses all over her; her eyelids, her temples, her forehead…until she finally raised her head and let her lips touch his, and then it was unending, desperate, and more than Xander had ever dreamed of. They breathed in each other and fused together again and again until he was crying, too, and their tears were mingling down each other's cheeks and leaving wet, salty droplets on entwined tongues as they finally came together in perfect despair and endless need for each other and something that had never felt more like love than in a cold, dark basement packed with monsters.


	39. Chapter 39

A quick note: I will not respond to bullies (beyond this), nor will I be bullied off the site. I will post this story here for those who want to read. If you don't, if you have a problem with something or CONSTRUCTIVE criticism, please feel free to contact me privately or even leave it in a review. If you've got a problem with the pairings or overall plot, though, please don't leave me reviews telling me so. Please don't PM me, or spam my livejournal with criticism of the existence of _canon_ pairings. This is my story, it's written up to the last two chapters, and it's not going to change because you want it to include/not include something. If you don't like it... **just stop reading the fic. **That's all. Thanks.

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* * *

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His forehead was pressed to hers, silent tears still running down her face and her arms still wrapped so tightly around him that he had to pry them away just a bit to speak. "Faith?" She looked up to stare at him. "We need to get out of here before someone finds us," he reminded her. "How did you come in?"

She turned in his arms toward the right, in the direction of the labs. He shuddered. "Well…maybe there's another way."

She shrugged, and he pulled her close again, closing his eyes to drink in this sensation properly, this feeling of Faith now nestled in the crook of his neck and her hands around him, needing him and accepting the need when she'd normally have pushed him away. It would have been perfection, had Faith not just gone through the most traumatic experience in her life and was shivering and naked in the middle of a prison.

"Here." He maneuvered around her embrace to pull his shirt off and tug it over her head. She closed her eyes, leaning against him. "Come on, maybe there's a back entrance."

There wasn't, but there was a door that the key she'd given him opened at the end of the hallway, and they slipped into the room together. It was mostly empty, a desk in one corner and a bare bed in the other one, the sort that Xander guessed was for a guest room oddly situated in the basement. Huh. "Maybe it's for the vampires' conjugal visits," he suggested with a grin. But Faith flinched, and he pulled her closer, feeling like an idiot. "Sorry."

They made their way over to sink onto the bed, and only then did Xander inspect Faith, wincing at the hand-shaped bruises that marred her stomach, her legs, and her waist, and the little red marks still dripping blood on the side of her neck. "Bastard," he muttered, his eyes darkening at the injuries. "Come here." She came closer obediently and he lay her down on the bed, stretching out beside her. "Is this okay?" She nodded, snuggling against him again.

He held her in his arms for a long time, her eyes still open and unblinking and their gazes locked until they finally heard in the distance the rumbling movement of scientists and soldiers heading home for the night. Xander checked his watch. "Two AM," he observed. "What, do they turn to stone at dawn?"

Faith didn't smile, but her hands tightened where they were clutching his sides and she let out a little breath. He sighed. "Yeah, I know. But it's not exactly a funny sort of night."

She shrugged a little and he helped her out of the bed and back to the door, and they stumbled out together, this time heading in the opposite direction to the basement exit. Faith punched in a few numbers in a console and a door opened, and when it began to ask for a retinal scan, she whispered in a hoarse, shaky voice, "Override." He kissed her sweetly when she did, rubbing her back comfortingly and pulling her to mold against him again.

They parted for the first time to walk up the staircase and through the silent halls of the school, and Xander was glad for the first time that his classmates were a conscientious bunch who'd never stay up late when there were classes the next day or training in the early morning. No one had to see Faith's shame or- _hey, aren't you supposed to be hiding from the watchers? _he reminded himself ruefully. But it didn't matter, not when Faith needed him.

He pushed open her door and tripped over a body in the doorway. "Ah!"

"Huh?" The body stirred, and Xander breathed a sigh of relief when he realized that it was Buffy. "What's happening- Faith! Where is she? I need to-"

"She's here, Buffy." He turned to Faith, but she was staring at Buffy with quiet horror and shame.

"Oh." Buffy stood up, putting her hands on her hips. "What the hell, Faith? You're going to-" She stopped, looking over her friend. "Oh, god, Faith, what happened?"

Xander winced, unsure of how much he should share. Luckily, Buffy was quick on the uptake. "Angelus. What did he do to you?"

Faith met his eyes, conveying without words to tell her everything. "He…uh…he tried to..." His eyes fell to Faith's legs, still visible under his shirt, and the bruises there.

"_Fuck_," Buffy swore, the first time Xander had ever heard something so crude from her. "That bastard. I'll-"

Faith shook her head vigorously, and Buffy stopped, moving closer to take the other girl into her arms. Xander couldn't help but feel a modicum of jealousy at passing Faith over to someone else, even Buffy, who was now inspecting Faith's face and neck with growing worry. "What is this?" she demanded furiously. "Did he try-" She stopped as Faith recoiled back into Xander's arms. "Did he try to _turn_ you?" she finished, softening her tone.

Faith nodded. "Ye-yeah," she whispered, turning her face away to bury it into Xander's chest. "He wanted to get out, with me…Xander saved me." He kissed the top of her head and looked back to Buffy.

Buffy bit her lip. "You need to stay here," she decided. "Faith, she needs…you can have my bed for now, stay with her."

"Thank you," he murmured, pressing his lips back to Faith's hair.

"And I'm going to get you some clothes," she added, wrinkling her nose. "Where have you two been, the sewers?"

He grinned half-heartedly. "Something like that. Do you need a place to stay?"

Buffy shrugged. "I'm sure my 'new best friend' Cordy will be happy to put me up in her extra bed." She turned to go, stopping to give both Xander and Faith kisses on their cheeks. "Thank you for taking care of her," she whispered in Xander's ear, and when she pulled away, he could see the tears in her eyes, too.

They did smell pretty awful, and Xander helped Faith into the shower, unsurprised when she tugged him in after her. He stripped off all but his boxers, after seeing how she flinched at the sight of him beginning to shed his underwear, and stood with her in the warm spray of the shower, sponging off the dried blood on her shoulder and gently rubbing down the yellowing bruises all over her body. She reached up to trace his lips and cheekbones with a tentativeness he'd never expected from Faith. "Thank you," she whispered, her tears mingling with the shower water, and Xander realized suddenly that this was going to be too much for her once she'd gotten over her initial shock. This was Faith, who was _never_ vulnerable, and she'd probably never speak to him again after she recovered.

He held her tightly and she kissed the side of his neck, and he wrapped himself and her into a towel together as they left the shower. She touched her hair for a moment, then dropped her hand. "It doesn't matter," she murmured.

"Of course it does," he retorted, reaching for the closest hairbrush to comb through her hair and grabbing the clothing that Buffy had left for them with a note.  
_  
Cordy and Jesse are in your room, so I grabbed some of his stuff from Cordy's room. I'm going to sleep there. I'll be back in the morning with something for you two to eat._

_Be good to her or I'll make you wish you'd never been born.  
_  
He ran the brush through Faith's hair again, moving to lay her down on her bed. She held onto him with a vice-tight grip. "Don't go."

"Okay." He helped her into an oversized pajama t-shirt crumpled at the foot of her bed and curled up beside her.

She was asleep in moments and he stared down at her with regret. Yep, she'd never even look at him again, not after he'd seen her broken.

But he'd be willing to give up even her if it meant she'd be better come morning.

* * *

There had been silence in the cells after Dru had broken away from Spike to tend to Angelus, and Spike remained quiet, unsure as to what degree his part in saving Faith had been detected. Dru knew, of course, and Webs had probably noticed, too, but Dru's moods and revelations were erratic and he knew Webs would keep quiet in this regard, loyal to his sire and not particularly inclined to break out of their prison. The wild card was Darla, as always, and he tensed when she opened her mouth.

"Well, that was a pathetic failure," she drawled, sinking back to the ground, and Spike's shoulders sagged with relief.

"It wouldn't have been," Angelus muttered. "Damn boy got in the way, playing hero. What the hell did he think he was doing? We're _dangerous_."

"Not much, if some kid with a plastic crossbow could knock you down," Darla said reprovingly. "And what took you so long, Dru? You could have been of use for a change and blocked the arrow for your sire."

Dru weaved forward. "Oh, my William," she whispered. "The sunshine has taken you away."

Angelus's brow creased. "Spike? What did you do?"

Spike froze, but Darla cut him off before he could speak. "It's not what he did," she said, shaking her head. "It's what he can do. Plan B, remember?"

"Hm?"

"William's got a _fan_," Darla told them. "A friend of Faith's who's completely in love with him. It's just so adorable!" she cooed with mock delight. "And she's not even under a thrall. All Spike needs to do is persuade her to free him from his cell so they can make sweet love together!" She chortled, heedless of Angelus's dark glare. "It's only a matter of time before this place burns."

"Burn, burn, burn," Dru chanted, and Angelus swung her into his arms, tossing one last baleful look at Spike.

"Come on, Dru, let's go have some fun."

Spike watched them go with detachment, his hand running absentmindedly down the side of his other wrist. What had he been thinking? He wanted to escape, just like the rest of them. He'd never had a problem with Angelus's plan, not when it had been that Japanese girl he'd initially targeted or even when Faith would come for the nightly tearing-down.

But no, things had changed. He wanted to escape still, but not…

_Not when Buffy would get hurt in the process. _

He pushed the thought from his mind, but he couldn't quite forget it, not when it reeked of honesty. Yes, he had fun with Buffy and she was unequivocally _his_, but caring about her to the point that he'd sacrifice his freedom for her _friend_? _I am so buggered up,_ he concluded, shaking his head. _She's just a little girl._

He tried instead to think of Dru, with her dark eyes and pale skin, but even in his mind's eye, the black lightened to blonde and the pale darkened to bronze, Buffy's sparkling eyes glinting with challenge and determination as she fell back and rose up again, never giving up. Never giving way. Never allowing him, or anyone else, to stop her when she had a goal in mind.

He closed his eyes and dreamt of her all night, until morning came and Smith arrived to retrieve him for his fight of the day. "Who am I up against?" he wondered.

Smith rolled his eyes. "Who do you think?"

He grinned, his heart warming at the thought of fighting Buffy again. "Good."

And then there she was, turning around the hallway as though she'd been summoned by his thoughts, her eyes dark and focused and a mace in her hand. Smith smirked. "Made the kid mad recently?"

But instead of targeting him, when Buffy reached them, she swung the mace into Smith's head and left him unconscious in a heap on the ground.

"Pet-" Then she was grabbing him and yanking him into the closest classroom, slamming the door shut behind them.

"Buffy?"

She rounded on him, her eyes flashing with fury. "You! You and your vampires-"

_Oh._ "Buffy, I swear to you, I tried to-"

She wasn't finished. "Was that all this was to you?" she demanded. "Seduce the girl, turn her, escape? Was that all _I_ was to you?"

He shook his head. She punched him in the nose. "Was I just another plaything? Were you going to do what Angelus did to Faith? Asshole!" She hit him again, and again, and again. "This was just a game to you! You use me, pretend to care, pretend to- You played me!" Tears were dripping from her eyes within the fury, and he continued to take her punches, mesmerized by the anger and sadness swimming in her eyes. "You've been playing with me all along! All you wanted was to turn me, to use me to get you out of-"

He was jerked from his daze with a surge of fury at that assertion. "Like hell I would!" he growled, gripping her arms to stave off the next blows. "I don't want you as a vampire! You're bloody perfect!"

She stopped, staring at him with quickly fizzling rage that died down into something far less certain, and he froze, too, locked in her gaze and the emotion behind it. _Oh, hell,_ he thought, and bent down to devour her lips with his own.

He was neither gentle nor slow, but neither was Buffy, and somewhere in the part of his mind that was still functioning, he was almost taken aback by the ferocity of the kiss, blunt little teeth biting at his lips hard enough to draw blood and clenched fingers and nails leaving indentations down his back. He bucked against her but she didn't recoil, gulping in a breath and then returning to her attack on his lips, her tongue running deep into her mouth and her lips fusing with his once more, moving and gasping and moaning as they lost themselves in each other.

_Not a little girl, _Spike thought dazedly. _Not anymore._ She was a woman, with passion as strong as his own and kisses that were going to make him die, or explode, or possibly both. She was untamed, violent, a slayer and a fighter even then, battling him with her body in a dance so familiar that it was to him as though they'd done it a thousand times before. The music had changed, but the dance had not.

She parted from him at last, staring up at him with wild eyes, and he remembered that she _was_ still that little girl sometimes, and he could still be that shy little boy. So he bent back down to kiss her chastely, softly, letting this kiss mold into something simple and true that was a quiet, simmering passion instead of anything hard and rough, pulling her close and coaxing her mouth open only after he felt her relax in his arms.

She melted into that, too, the ardor gone but the passion still there, and he felt it in the heat of her body, the pounding of her heart, the sound of the little sighs she let out as he moved his attentions to her jawbone and down her neck. He felt her tense as he ran his lips down a vein and he gave her a reassuring kiss on the shoulder, pulling back to look her in the eye. "Buffy?"

She was glowing, he thought, and it was beautiful. "Spike," she breathed, leaning in to rest her head against his chest. He held her to him, drinking her in, and he could feel her smile against him. "You just…?"

But then there was a loud sound outside the classroom, and Gunn was barking out orders in a worried voice, so he parted from Buffy reluctantly and they pushed open the door to the classroom together.

"Call Giles; tell him-" Gunn stopped, staring at Buffy and Spike. "Never mind," he said slowly, snapping his phone shut. "Buffy, what did you do?"

Buffy handed him the mace with a shrug. "I-I needed to talk to Spike. Alone."

Spike was suddenly glad for the blows Buffy had inflicted on him earlier that had left his face bruising rapidly under Gunn's suspicious gaze. He matched Buffy's shrug. "We needed to work some things out," he agreed.

Gunn shook his head slowly. "I see. You done with that?"

They both nodded obediently.

"Good." Gunn scowled. "Buffy, if you ever pull anything like this again, I _will_ stake Spike," he said coldly. "He's not invaluable enough for us to risk you like that."

"It wasn't-"

Gunn held up a finger, and Buffy quieted her protest, pouting. "Spike, you're going back downstairs," he decided. "Buffy, you're working in the single-person training rooms today. Got it?"

Buffy's pout deepened, and Spike mimicked it, too, but Gunn was not amused. "_Now_, Spike," he ordered, and Spike reached down to squeeze Buffy's hand once behind their backs and outside of Gunn's line of sight and walked away, glancing back at Buffy as soon as he could.

She was watching him leave with a raised eyebrow and a smile playing at her lips, and he felt his heart jump at the sight of her. He shook his head, longing to run back to her and take her into his hands for another dance.

Yes, she was undeniably his. But only now was he certain that he was hers, as well.


	40. Chapter 40

Thank you all for your feedback! The one (or two) trolls I've been dealing with have thankfully disappeared back into the woodwork, and I greatly appreciate your PMs lending me support. :)

* * *

"Eve get murdered or something?" Buffy looked up in surprise. Faith was watching her warily from her vantage point on her bed.

"What?"

Faith shrugged. "Can't imagine why else you'd be walking around with a smile that wide."

"Oh." Buffy flushed and looked down. "Nah, it's nothing. I'm just glad you're okay. You're _both_ okay," she clarified, tossing Xander a sympathetic grin where he sat uncomfortably at the other end of her bed. Sometime since the day before yesterday, when Faith had spent the whole day curled up against Xander, and today, a distinct chill had settled in the room between her two classmates, just as Faith had started talking a little bit more. Buffy didn't like it at all. "Faith, come here. Dinner's stinky enough without leaving both our beds smelling like fish."

Faith gave her a knowing, unamused glance. "I don't care," she muttered, but she clambered over to sit next to Buffy, as far from Xander as she could. Xander closed his eyes, watching her silently, and Buffy caught his gaze to exchange a regretful look with him.

"Anyway, Gunn would like to know when you're 'getting your ass back into gear,'" Buffy said casually, reaching to unwrap Faith's specialized slayer dinner.

Faith stiffened, yanking the tray from Buffy's hands and opening it herself. "Tell him I'm sick."

"Okay." Buffy bit her lip. "Listen, do you want to go down to the training rooms tonight, after everyone's asleep? Spar, get a good workout?"

"No," Faith said flatly. "I don't feel like leaving this room right now."

Buffy shook her head. "You can't hide here forever."

"Don't make her-" Xander began, but Faith turned on him instantly, her eyes dark and angry.

"I don't need your help!" she spat out, and Xander fell silent again, a muscle in his jaw twitching violently. "I don't need…" She set her food down, uneaten. "I gotta pee," she announced abruptly, stalking over to the bathroom. The door closed and the shower went on, muffling any sounds that they could have heard from there.

Buffy sighed. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

Xander shrugged. "It's nothing I didn't expect," he admitted. "Faith's not quite better yet. I don't know if she ever will be."

Buffy watched him curiously. "You really care about her, don't you? I mean, this isn't about getting into her pants or anything."

"No," he said simply, gazing at the bathroom door with an inscrutable look.

Buffy smiled softly. "It won't be easy," she warned.

Xander laughed. "Buffy, I once tried to ask _you_ out. That was hard enough. And in Faith's case, it's about a hundred times tougher." He closed his eyes. "But she's worth it."

"Yes, she is." Buffy shook a finger at him mock-sternly. "And don't you forget it." Part of what he'd said caught up with her, and she looked at him oddly. "You were going to ask me out?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "Faith ran me off before I could get to you."

"Shame." She leaned back, giving him a smirk that was playful without being inviting. She hoped. "I probably would have said yes. You're one of my favorite watchers."

"Little old me? I'm blushing." But there was a good-natured grin on his face, and she relaxed, suddenly certain of his devotion to her friend. "And me with a pulse and all."

"Hey, I said I'd go out with you. I didn't say I'd fall for you," she retorted, poking him in the arm.

He raised his eyebrows. "And have you fallen for any pulse-less friends of ours?"

She flushed, the grin she'd been wearing when she'd entered the room returning with a vengeance. "Okay, you're really not one of my girlfriends, and this is kind of awkward to talk about with-"

"He helped."

She stared. "What?"

"Spike," Xander clarified. "He helped a little. Kept the other vampire in the cell away, told me to shoot Angelus…" He shrugged. "Just thought you'd want to know."

One moment, Buffy had been sitting comfortably at the head of the bed, the next- and she herself wasn't quite sure how it had happened- she'd thrown herself across it to wrap her arms around Xander. "Thank you for telling me," she whispered, tightening her grip on him.

He patted her back. "Hey, if Spike's going to go all Stockholm, I thought you should be the first to know. But…be careful, okay? Judging from how long Angelus was working on Faith, we have no idea if Spike's doing the same to you."

"Thrall? Rape? Actual plotting?" Buffy laughed. "That's not Spike at all."

"Just don't go visiting him in the basement, Buffy." Xander eyed the key sitting on her night table with trepidation. "You know how that ends."

She gave him a reproachful look, rising to leave. "Xander, I assure you that the next time I go to the basement, it's not going to be to visit Spike." Her eyes darkened. "It'll be for Angelus."

* * *

"Truthfully, I think the whole watcher-slayer dichotomy is just a way for the teachers to gain even more power over us," Cordy was telling Buffy and Jesse animatedly. She considered her words. "And, well, it's stupid! We can all be friends, right?"

Jesse leaned over to kiss her on the cheek affectionately, and Willow grimaced, turning back to her book. Maybe it hadn't been the best idea to invite her friends along for the after-school project Ethan had given her and Tara. But the idea of being alone with just Tara and the magic for any period of time made her too uncomfortable to _not_ bring Buffy and the Jesse-and-Cordy monster that had somehow infiltrated her circle of friends.

"You're saying that now that you've been pushed away," Buffy pointed out. "But how long is that going to last?"

"Hey, I'm crossing over!" Cordelia said indignantly. "I'm even going to be a watcher next year!" She made a face. "I'm not spending the rest of my days as an uneducated former potential with no talent outside of fighting. That kind of life is empty and meaningless."

"Gee, thanks ever so," Buffy said wryly.

Tara grinned, looking up at Willow under her eyelashes with smiling eyes. Willow's lips tightened. Tara sighed. "R-Ready for the spell?"

"What are you guys doing?" Buffy asked curiously.

Willow shrugged. "Ethan wants us to make our own spells. I've been trying to develop anti-lycanthropy ones, and this is the third stage." The first stage had been a bust, the second a success, and Willow was hoping that the third, fourth and fifth, were they successful, would cancel out the first. Tara was doubtful, but Tara was always doubtful, and Willow wasn't giving up just yet.

Jesse shook his head. "Will, Oz is a werewolf. That can't be undone."

"Watch me," she shot back, grabbing Tara's hand to begin the spell.

"Maybe I'll take up magic," Cordy said thoughtfully.

That was _it_. Willow buried herself into the spell, digging deeper and deeper into Tara and herself until they were full immersed in magic, Cordy's voice nothing but a low buzz in the background. She went further and further inside of herself, trying to find the center of magic…

…And then the doubts came again, as they'd begun to nearly every time they did magic now. How far in was Tara? What did she see? What did she _feel_?

Her magic ruptured and broke, and even Tara's gentle guidance couldn't still her, not when her own inner calm was dropping rapidly. She desperately thought the words of the spell, trying to bring them to her lips, but they were fading with her magic and focus, and she clawed desperately for it, trying to touch it again with little success.

Then she remembered another part of herself strong with power beyond anything Tara had ever shown, and she dug deep inside, reaching a place Ethan had taught her about, dark and strong and teeming with magic. She pulled from it breathlessly, deeper and fuller and wider…

Tara dropped her hand and took a step back, shattering the spell. Her eyes were wide with pain and horror, and Willow didn't want to see it, to feel that, so she grabbed her hands again, trying to focus, to _force_ the darkness's power over Tara's light-

-And felt another dark presence, shadowy as a demon, in the grass just outside the gates to the school.

She let go of Tara, who looked utterly shell-shocked, and turned to her friends. "There's a demon on the lawn."

"Not again," Cordy sighed, but her eyes were worried and she was up moments after an eager Jesse, ready to follow Willow.

Buffy held up a hand. "Wait. It might be…"

"It's a _demon_," Willow said impatiently, turning to go. They headed out of the room, and Willow tossed one last glance back at Tara. The other witch was standing very still where she'd left her, her eyes glassy with tears and her whole body shaking. Willow felt a twinge of guilt that she brushed away immediately. It wasn't her fault that Tara wouldn't comply with Ethan's methods. And it was time that Tara learned to stop being so stubborn and listen to her teacher.

"It was just pacing there," Willow told her friends breathlessly. "I bet it couldn't get in, but that never works well, right?" she added darkly.

"Yeah," Jesse agreed, quickening his pace. They rounded the corner and exited the building, squinting across the inner lawn to the gates that surrounded it, where a pretty woman paced, looking agitated.

Buffy sighed with relief. "It's Anya."

"What's an Anya?"

"Anya. She's a person." Buffy nodded to the woman.

Willow frowned. "But she's a demon!"

"Not officially." They'd slowed their pace to a stop, and Buffy met her eyes. "Look, I'm going to go talk to her. Can you guys get Giles?"

"I'm not leaving you alone with her," Willow argued, flashes of Oz and Xander fighting a werewolf quickening her heartbeat and breathing.

"I've been alone with her a million times," Buffy said, a trifle impatiently. "Just get Giles."

* * *

Jenny Calendar had her suspicions about Rupert. Oh, she was certain that he was heartbroken and recently so, and she remembered an encounter nearly a year before that had left her vaguely perplexed, but she wasn't quite sure where he was at and what had occurred.

But when he tore out of his office with three students at his heels, she knew unequivocally that Something Had Happened to shake Rupert up, and very little did these days aside from love.

So she followed him, because when had she ever passed up a chance to try to figure out what made Rupert Giles tick?

They exited the school to come face-to-face with the woman from last summer, little to Jenny's surprise, and Rupert's face darkened. "What are you doing here?"

The woman's lip trembled, eliciting a wince from Rupert. "I need your help. Please, I just want to…"

"_No_," Rupert said frostily, turning away. "I've told you before to stay away from my students. You need to leave, now."

"Giles?" Buffy Summers, yet another of Rupert's headaches, was staring at him with worry. "Anya needs-"

"Go inside, Buffy."

"But-"

"All four of you, inside," Rupert ordered the students, and they backed away, tossing back curious glances at the woman- Anya- and Rupert.

Anya spoke again. "I swear, I haven't been granting wishes!"

"Really," Rupert said, his stance bored but his expression anything but. "And what prompted that?"

"You!" Anya said, frustrated. "And your stupid students! I can't grant anything without thinking of the ones I find tolerable getting hurt in the process, or of you… you hurting…" She stamped her foot in frustration. "There are all these _human_ feelings now. I keep thinking of all the consequences, and how you'd feel about it, and now I'm so confused!"

"Sorry to inconvenience you," Rupert said coolly, but again, his eyes were pained, and Jenny took a step forward.

"Rupert, please. I'm in trouble. D'Hoffryn's not happy with me." She reached out a hand toward him, her face crumpling when it hit a barrier and fell. "I need you."

"I can't forgive you," Rupert said quietly. "Not after what's happened."

"But I'm repentant!" Anya protested. "Doesn't that mean anything?"

He turned away, his face set and grim. "It can't."

He caught sight of Jenny where she stood watching and turned away, heading back toward the entrance to the Academy. Jenny sighed and approached the woman. "Hey."

Anya looked up at her warily. "Oh. You're Rupert's girlfriend, aren't you?"

"Nah, he's got someone else," she said dryly.

Anya shot up. "Who?" she demanded. Jenny raised an eyebrow. "Oh." Anya shook her head. "You're incorrect. Rupert is no longer having sex with me, nor are we cohabitating. He won't even-" Her voice caught, and Jenny moved outside the barrier instinctively, putting a hand on the other woman's shoulder.

"So…uh… you re a demon?" she finally asked awkwardly. "Never really seen Rupert as the type to go interspecies."

"Vengeance demon," Anya said mournfully, and then the story was spilling out of her, so quickly that Jenny was having difficulty keeping track of the details as she explained them, a story that spanned over a decade of time and left Jenny at a loss.

"…And now I _can't_ grant wishes, not if anyone's going to get hurt, even though Rupert hates me now! I'm useless as a vengeance demon and D'Hoffryn's been sending his toadies after me because he's pissed. I used to be his favorite, you know, and he always told me that my relationship with Rupert would destroy me," Anya finished. She looked down dejectedly. "And he was right. Now I'm practically helpless and a hunted woman. I can't even teleport anymore."

"Can't you just…" Jenny looked pointedly at Anya's amulet.

"Smash my amulet?" Anya exclaimed, horrified. "Become human? Of course not! D'Hoffryn isn't done with me yet, and that would just be signing my death warrant."

Jenny considered her options. Or, okay, she'd only had one option from the moment she'd decided to approach Anya. "Come on in," Jenny said finally, lowering the magic shields up against Anya- magic, she noticed, that was unattached to the initial spell. Looked like Ethan and Giles had only put Anya-wards up recently. "You can stay with me for now."

Anya stared at her. "You're giving me sanctuary?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

Jenny shrugged. "You make Rupert happy. It doesn't seem right to let you die because you keep trying." She extended a hand, pulling Anya in. "Come on, I've got a pull-out couch."

She saw Rupert's eyes gazing down at her from his office window and narrowed her own at him, unrepentant. He closed his eyes and turned away.


	41. Chapter 41

One week, and no Spike. Buffy knew that Gunn was punishing her, or at least that he was wary of giving them too much time around each other, and she didn't begrudge him for it, but a _full week_ after what had happened… She was ready to jump out of her skin. It was bad enough that she'd been rooming with Cordelia, that Faith was still hiding in their room, that Faith was acting standoffish with Xander, but to spend this much time away from Spike now? That was worst of all, and Buffy was eminently frustrated and more than a little worried that Gunn was going to keep them apart long-term.

Which was why, when she walked into the training room on Wednesday, she was pleasantly surprised to see Spike waiting on the game floor, looking oddly uncertain. It was an alien look on him, and she found her own features settling into a sort of shy wariness in response. "Hi."

"'Lo." His eyes lingered on the curves of her body and she instantly regretted throwing on the closest jumpsuit at hand that morning. But she hadn't expected to fight anyone whose assessment of her outfit mattered. Silly her. "You look good."

"So do you." She bit her lip, forcing herself to meet his gaze. "So, uh, what now?"

"Now you fight, remember?" Gunn reminded them from outside the barrier, shaking his head. "Think you can handle that?"

"Of course we can!" Buffy said indignantly. She turned to Spike. "Right?"

Very suddenly, she was flat on the ground, a black-clad vampire on top of her and moving for her neck. She shoved him back. "What are you doing?"

"Fighting." He vamped out, pinning her back to the ground, and she was suddenly dazed, his lips too close and the memories of them pressed to her own overwhelming her too much to think.

She might not have remembered what to do, but her body did, and instinctively, her knee shot upwards and crashed into his groin with all her strength. Spike fell backward with a hoarse howl of pain.

She clapped a hand to her mouth. "Sorry!" But her eyes shone with mischief and she finally remembered herself. Hurting Spike was _fun_. Fighting with Spike was fun. And they might have kissed, but it didn't mean that they couldn't have fun anymore.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "You are one step away, missy." But he was grinning, and they were back in their comfort zone.

Well, sort of. She was pretty sure that he'd never actually backed her up against the wall and felt her up before, even if Gunn seemed distracted by his conversation with the witch keeping the barrier up. But it was a definite improvement to their battles.

"Mm…" she murmured, arching against a roving hand.

"Bloody one-piece uniform," he muttered, gripping the hand she'd been inching to the stake in her pocket and pinning it against the wall.

"Shouldn't we…talk?" she asked breathlessly, slipping a leg between his and rubbing slowly. "About…what…happened?"

"Don't wanna." He growled lowly, and she slapped his face away from where it was descending toward her neck. "Wanna do this."

She smiled sweetly, wrenching her hand free from his and tilting her head upwards toward his, closer and closer until they were eye to eye, her leg running up his own so high that she was practically rubbing up against his very eager crotch, and…

…She pulled her second stake from the pocket at her lower leg and poked it at his chest. "Nice try, Bleach Boy."

With a sharp cutting motion, Spike sent the stake flying through the air and caught it, holding it just above her head as she stood on tiptoes to try to catch it. "Yeah, that's right, pet. Keep stretching, and maybe you'll grow an inch or two."

"I hate you," she griped, turning away. She could sense him lowering his hand, and so as soon as he was finished, she whirled around and pounced, grabbing at the stake.

He pulled it away. "Ah-ah-ah," he drawled, stepping backwards. "You've been a bad, bad girl."

She wrinkled her brow. "You know, that should be hot, but really, it just sounds skeezy from you." She danced forward with a flurry of blows that he was quick to block, making sure to keep her eyes fixed on the stake.

He pouted, and she nearly forgot her plan. "M'not skeezy!"

"Oh, please, preying on an innocent, underage girl?" Buffy arched a brow dubiously. "You're totally skeezy." She launched herself at him again with renewed energy, dodging and feinting and twisting her way into finally getting in a good blow.

He smirked, raising the stake to plant a kiss on the back of the plastic stick mockingly. "Oi, I'm an old man and you're a hot little thing. What's your excuse?"

She made a face, prowling toward him with bright-eyed enthusiasm. "I just told you that I hate you."

"You don't hate me," he scoffed, taking a step back. "You like me."

She moved forward with lightning speed, reaching for the original stake she still had hidden in her pocket and drawing it, leaping onto Spike in a swift move. Her legs wrapped around his waist, a hand was pressed against his chest, and he staggered backwards against the wall, his hands moving up automatically to support her against him. _Oh_. They settled on her rear, squeezing gleefully, and she jerked backwards.

"Cut it out, both of you," Gunn said warningly, and Buffy jerked, so caught up in the fight that she'd forgotten that they were being watched.

Spike set her down reluctantly, his hands lingering on her body with the reluctance of a parting lover. Buffy shivered.

"You all right?" he asked concernedly, stroking her cheek with a gentle hand.

She nodded. "Yeah."

"Good." He lunged forward and had his teeth on her neck before she could do any more to stop him. Although, to be fair, that felt so good that she probably wouldn't have tried if she'd known that it would be like this, his lips at her neck, licking and sucking, teeth nipping gently against the vein, the slightest electricity between them…

"Argh!" No. That was real electricity, and Spike was violently thrown backward, Gunn apparently having had enough. And she couldn't blame him. There _had_ been a vampire sucking at her neck, after all.

"God, I hate that," he mumbled, and she crouched down beside him to lay a comforting hand on his thigh. His eyes brightened. "A little higher."

She rolled her eyes. "You're such a pig. Come on, you need to get up." She helped him to his feet just as the special ops watcher approached to take him away.

Gunn opened his mouth to speak. Buffy put up a hand. "We know, no more neck fun," she assured him, flippant.

Spike scowled. "I _like_ the neck fun."

"Have you forgotten that you're the prisoner here?"

"Oh. That." But his eyes were warm and inviting, and it was all Buffy could do not to follow him out of the room once he turned to go.

But there was no need. She had other plans.

* * *

Faith was staring aimlessly into space when Buffy slipped into their room just after midnight, and she managed to snatch Faith's charm and key from her night table before the other girl turned to see. "Hey. Where's Xander?"

Faith shrugged. "Dunno. He went out."

"Out where?" Buffy asked suspiciously. "He's not going back to the sewers, is he? Because our room smelled for days."

"No." Faith shook her head. "He got restless, so I told him to go for a walk. It was pissing me off."

"Pissing you off?" Buffy repeated disbelievingly. "Xander's being hunted by those watchers! You can't just send him out there!"

Faith shrugged again. "Not my problem."

"Faith…" Buffy put down the outfit she'd been fingering. "What's up with you and Xander?"

Faith stared sullenly at the wall beside her. "Nothing."

"Why not?" Buffy sighed. "Look, Xander's crazy about you. And you can't tell me that you don't have feelings for him, too. Can't you just-"

"Go away, B," Faith cut her off tiredly. "Just…go."

So she did, pulling on a clean red jumpsuit and tossing back a worried glance at Faith. She looked sad, weary, and so lonely that Buffy's heart ached for her. "I'll see you later," she said softly.

"Buffy." Faith's voice was suddenly very quiet. "Where are you going?"

Buffy froze, her hands moving to smooth the material of her shirt down automatically. "I'm going to train extra," she said, struggling to sound nonchalant. "Rona and Kennedy were there all night, so I figured that I'd wait until they were asleep. You know how they get."

Faith didn't respond, so she didn't turn back again, just slipped out of the room and headed down the hall. _Faith doesn't need to know, _she chanted to herself. _It's not the same. It's not the same at all._

She took the far staircase down, wary of bumping into Xander, and was startled to see him leaning against the half-moon window on the way up to the second floor of the building. Even more surprising was his companion. "Anya?"

She waved at Buffy, but the easy smile that Buffy was accustomed to was gone. "It's late at night. Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"I'm doing some training." The lie came easier now, and she was glad. Faith was quick to accept untruths if they were to her benefit, but Xander always saw through shoddy lies and Anya had no patience for artifice. "How about you? Are you…I mean, did Giles…?" Her voice trailed off.

"I'm staying with Jenny Calendar right now," Anya informed her glumly. "Rupert still hates me." Her lower lip quivered, and Xander rested a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Buffy stared. "Do you two know each other?"

"We just met." Xander blushed, a very boyish expression, and Buffy grinned inwardly. Apparently, even a depressed Anya was still as graphic as always.

And in fact, as soon as she made her excuses and edged away, Buffy could hear Anya asking in her matter-of-fact way, "So, have you had sex with Faith yet?"

Buffy smirked and moved on in the direction of the training rooms, peeking into one to watch Gunn was supervising as a few of the special ops watchers spoke rapidly to…was that Drusilla? The vampiress was twirling in a circle as she spoke, her eyes bright and malicious, and the watchers looked angry.

Buffy shrugged it off. It was probably best that Dru wasn't around, anyway. She preferred not to think about Spike's sire at all, truthfully.

She slipped into Gunn's unlocked office for just a moment to fiddle with his box of keys, sighing with exasperation when she realized that it wouldn't open. _Fine. I can work with this._ Instead, she stuck the key that Faith had stolen from him under his desk where it could have fallen, and breathed a sigh of relief that she hadn't even realized she'd been holding in. That key and everything it represented was danger, and as much as she liked Spike, she had enough common sense to know better than to _ever_ free him from his cage.

* * *

Angelus was lounging about, bored, at the front of his cell when she entered the Aurelian section of the basement, and Buffy choked back bile. "You," she growled, reaching for her stake automatically.

Angelus smirked at her with amused eyes. "Oh, you must be Faith's little friend. Come on in. It's been over a week since I've tasted virgin blood."

Spike snarled so loudly that even Angelus looked startled. He recovered quickly, laughing nastily. "Oh, please, like you don't have a taste for it, too? Imagine her blood, hot and rushing and thick, pouring down your throat like the ambrosia it can be when-"

"_Cado_," Buffy said quickly, not liking the way that Spike's eyes were glazing over. The moment the barrier went down, she was up against Angelus's cage, her hand clenched on his shirt and her plastic stake at his chest. "I'll kill you for what you did to her," she hissed, her eyes narrowed.

Angelus shrugged, a hand moving up to catch her wrist and squeeze until her eyes were watering up from the pain and her wrist felt like it was about to break. "Spike!" she gasped.

But her rescue came from a far more unlikely place. "Oh, let go of her," Darla ordered in a bored tone. "You know your place here."

"Don't tell me my place, lass," Angelus rumbled warningly.

Darla was unfazed. "You forget yours."

"Mm." A slow, hungry smile spread across Angelus's face, and he dropped Buffy's hand to stalk over to Darla. "We could both do with a reminder."

Buffy wrapped the fingers of her other hand around the bars of the cell, schooling her features so as not to reveal the amount of pain she was in. Spike had twisted her wrists a thousand times on the game floor, and it had never ached quite like this, blinding, throbbing, and more difficult to ignore than anything before it. But there was no way in hell that she was going to let Angelus see that.

"Buffy? Kitten?" Spike was reaching for her, and it took all her leftover energy to make her way over to him. He took her wrist in his hands, feeling it for broken bones.

She managed a tiny smile. "Got it. Next time, I'll use a crossbow. I hear that works well." She tossed a disdainful look at Angelus. A dark shadow crossed his face, but then it was gone and replaced with smug confidence.

"Plastic's not going to do anything to that wanker," Spike muttered. "I thought I told you not to come here."

She raised her eyebrows. "And I do what you say since when?"

"Point taken." He was silent for a moment, his hand brushing against the side of her cheek almost unconsciously. Buffy caught his other hand, lacing it in her uninjured one and sighing.

"See, things get all awkward off the game floor," she pouted. "And I can't get into your cell, so we can't…" She stopped, sudden insecurities overwhelming her. "Not that you'd want-"

"Oh, I want, love," Spike informed her, curling his tongue between his teeth and giving her that once-over that always made her feel like she was naked. "I want very, very much."

"Oh." She flushed self-consciously, scrambling for something to respond with. "Dirty old man."

"Lolita," he retorted, smiling fondly at her.

"What's that?" But she was suddenly distracted by the shadowy darkness behind him, where Angelus and Darla were engaging in some particularly lewd activities. She craned her neck, fascinated. "Huh. How is that even possible with the bars between them?"

Spike shrugged. "I think it's the lack of circulation." He leered. "Might work for us, too, if you'd like to give it a whirl…"

She poked him halfheartedly, and he caught her hand and raised it to his lips. "But you're not meant for the dark like this," he said softly. "You belong in the light."

"I'm a potential slayer, Spike. My life is all about the dark." But then she was silent, uncomfortable, avoiding glancing to the back at Angelus and Darla or directly in front of her at Spike. "Maybe I should go."

"Buffy…" He retracted his hand. "It's not safe down here. Faith was-"

"Faith trusted _him_," she jerked a thumb at Angelus, wrinkling her nose. "I don't trust any of you."

"Ah." He looked almost relieved at that. "Good."

She poked him again, this time with her other hand. It wasn't hurting as much anymore. "Idiot."

He kissed the hand at his lips. "Hellcat."

"Asshole."

"Demonness."

"Jerk-off."

"Bint."

"Hey!" 


	42. Chapter 42

Sorry about the delay- I'm moving and Internet is sketchy, and this is the one site which I can't update via phone. I'm posting the earlier chapter today, and I'll try to post it tomorrow, if I (finally!) get Internet.

* * *

She wandered through the hall, confusion and desperation blinding her to her surroundings until his voice jerked her from her reverie. "Anya! What's going on?" Xander bounded over too her, eager and smiling.

She forced a smile back at the boy. He might have been young, but in his pain and feelings of rejection she'd found a kindred spirit who'd been able to break her out of her melancholy more than once. And he wasn't bad to look at, either, though she had little interest in anyone but Rupert sexually. "Leaving that tiny apartment, of course. Jenny's not bad when she isn't trying to steal away my lover, but it's far too restrictive in there without my teleportation powers."

"Of course." He leaned against the wall just outside the silent kitchens. "I wanted to get Faith some chocolate. There's always some junk food in the kitchen, and I thought she might want something that actually tastes good." He grinned sheepishly.

"The door's locked," Anya pointed out.

Xander pulled out something that looked suspiciously like Rupert's skeleton key. "I've got a key."

They moved into the room together, Anya's eyes alighting immediately on the fridge. She pulled a non-fat yogurt from it hungrily. As a vengeance demon, she wasn't required to eat, of course, but she'd found that she'd developed a taste for food once Rupert had started taking her out for dinner. She did still have to watch her figure, of course. Some of the younger demons took to eating with far too much gusto and they'd totter around Arashmahar, fat and unattractive and complaining that their teleporting was getting slower and slower. Anya believed in efficiency in her work.

"Anya?" Xander was frowning at her, and she thought she might have missed something important, so she nodded vigorously and said, "I agree completely!" with all the enthusiasm she could muster.

Xander smirked at her. "I had no idea you felt so strongly about chocolate bars," he said, snatching three of the ones wrapped in blue from the bin.

"Yes, well, they keep people happy, which affects the natural rise and fall of vengeance," Anya informed him, opening her yogurt. "Which one does Faith prefer?"

Xander shrugged. "I don't know. I mean, I know she likes _food_, especially junk food, but it's not like we've ever gone on a date or anything. If I'd given her chocolate a month ago, she probably would have burned it. Or forced it down my throat or something. Possibly while she was burning it." He looked down. "Of course, she might do that now, too."

"Didn't she send you to get it?"

"No." Xander sighed. "She's been…different lately. Sad. Lonely. Timid. And she hates me now, so I leave the room whenever I can, because at least then, we're both comfortable. I just thought…" He waved the chocolate. "I thought maybe this would cheer her up."

"I'm sure it will!" Anya said cheerfully. Then she was serious, a thought coming to her. "You know, I can still grant wishes. And Faith's cries have been calling out to me since I got here. If you wanted-"

"No." Xander put up a hand. "That's not what she needs, not yet. And I'm sure that right now, judging where her anger's directed, that'll leave me without some vital organs." He gave her a soft smile. "And that's not what you want, either, is it?"

She shook her head. "I don't know_what_ I want! I know what Rupert thinks is right, and I have to believe in that because I _know_ everything I used to believe in is wrong, but no one's been telling me I'm doing the right thing. No one's been guiding me, and the one person I wish would help me won't even look at me anymore!" She turned to Xander, her eyes pleading. "I ruined the life of one of your best friends. How can you talk to me now? And if you can, why won't he?"

Xander was quiet for a moment, thoughtful, before he finally spoke. "I guess it's because I'm just as responsible as you are," he said finally. "I brought Oz to that. But Giles brought you to here, so that's what he's punishing himself for, right?"

"I don't want to be like that," she whispered. "I don't want to be someone he hates himself for loving. I want him to be proud of me."

And Xander turned to look at her, his eyes earnest, and Anya thought that, in another space and time, where he was older and she was just a bit younger, she might have loved him for it. "Anya, what you're doing now _will_ make him proud of you." He smiled sadly, a faraway look in his eyes. "He's proud of us when we do our best, when we try and try and try against our natures. He was always proud of me for it. And now… if he can ever forgive himself, I know he'll be proud of you, too."

* * *

It was nearly two weeks later when Jenny said the same thing to Anya, one evening when they were out for dinner. "You're on the right path," she assured her, hand on her arm. "Before I met you, I'd never imagined that a dark creature like you could go light. But now I don't doubt it."

"Thank you." Anya smiled awkwardly. Speaking to Xander was so much more natural than speaking to Jenny, and she wondered sometimes if that was because Jenny was still interested in Rupert. Though Jenny never said a word about it, Anya knew. Anya always knew. "I'm still who I am, though. And this is quite an uncomfortable situation for me."

"I'm sure." Jenny shook her head. "Listen, if you want me to speak to Rupert-"

Anya cut her off. "I'm not going to grovel to him. I've said my piece, told him the truth, and he hasn't accepted it. Which means I'll just have to wait until he does," she decided, satisfied.

"But what if he doesn't?" And then there was the slightest concern in Jenny's eyes. "What if he refuses to see it?"

Anya shrugged. "I don't know. But this isn't just about him, contrary to what everyone seems to believe. It's about me, too. I'm not a normal demon anymore," she said mournfully. "It sucks."

"In more ways than one," Jenny noted, glancing out the window of the restaurant. Anya's eyes widened at the size of the Gnorshlak demon hurtling toward the glass window. "Get down!"

Anya ducked under the table, watching as the other demon exploded through the window and into the room, sending patrons running, terrified. "A bear!" one waiter kept shouting. "There's a bear!"

"Do bears have three hind legs?" Anya muttered. "Idiot."

Above the table, Jenny was chanting a spell, putting some sort of fizzling barrier around the demon as it barreled toward them. Anya watched, fascinated.

"_Allua kainia telpor, fa neiri allua_," Jenny murmured, faster and faster.

D'Hoffryn's charge- because it had to have been D'Hoffryn's- craned its head at Jenny with a sort of vague curiosity. "Anyanka?" it rumbled.

"_Allua begain! Allua corass_!"

"Anyanka!" the creature said, spotting her figure hunched under the table, and it swept Jenny aside with poison-clawed hands and lifted the table, throwing it behind it as it bent toward her.

She glared up at it. "Oh, sure, take your time. I'm on a tight schedule, you know, and if you're going to kill me, then just do it!"

It reached for her and she blocked the blow with her wrist, dodging the claws, and kneed it hard, sending it flying backwards into a wooden table. It crushed the table beneath it and rose again, looming over her with an imposing presence that probably should have inspired fear in her.

But she was beyond fear, and she instead swung a foot into its gut and rained a series of blows at its face, capping it off with a burst of energy directly into its eyes. It howled in pain and tore off into the night, and Anya finally breathed a sigh of relief that didn't quite reach her heart.

D'Hoffryn wasn't going to stop, not now, not ever. And she hadn't been sure before if he'd just wanted to make her mortal or he wanted her dead, but now she knew. After all, Gnorshlak demons wouldn't be much of a problem to other demons, strength-wise, but they were well known for one reason.

The venom in their claws was lethal only to other demons.

Ambulances were pulling up to the scene, and Anya remembered the other woman who'd been with her, and what the Gnorshlak had done. She bent over her, frowning at how pale the witch had become. For humans, the poison wasn't deadly, but she'd probably have to sleep it off for a few days, unless if one of the other magic practitioners from the school had an alternate plan.

"Ma'am? We're going to take this woman to the hospital. Do you know her name?"

"Take her to the Academy section," she murmured, gazing down at Jenny. She shivered suddenly, the faintest remorse sinking in for what had happened to her caretaker.

_Disaster follows me everywhere I go,_she thought morosely. _And not too long ago, that should have made me happy_.

* * *

Rupert was waiting at Jenny's bedside when she arrived, he white-faced and furious. "What the bloody hell do you think you're doing here?" he demanded.

Anya wrapped her arms around herself. "I just wanted to see how she was doing."

"How she was doing? _How she was doing_?" Rupert repeated disbelievingly. "How do you suppose she was doing? She's been attacked by another one of your blunders!"

"I'm just trying to do the right thing," Anya murmured, looking down at Jenny's white body with a vague sort of horror that sank into her very pores. She'd never liked Jenny much, but the other woman had taken care of her, and she was sure she hadn't been grateful enough, jealousy clouding her eyes. And Jenny had still tried to save her life, because that was what goodness did to people. It made them stupid, and weak…

And loved.

Anya wanted to be loved, more than anything. "I'm…I'm sorry," she said, and was surprised to realize that it was true.

For a moment, Rupert's eyes softened, but he shook it off almost immediately. "You will not return to the school," he said coldly. "I don't care who you attempt to coerce into helping you this time. You bring nothing but pain."

She had no response to that, not when she was beginning to agree with him.

* * *

She slept in the hospital that night, in the waiting room for the Academy section, and was unsurprised when a Torbin demon flew into the room. "Anyanka," he grumbled, and she realized that she recognized this one, had even attended a few of D'Hoffryn's shindigs with him.

She sat up, clenching her fists in a way that she thought might have been defiant. "Get away from here."

He laughed. "Really, Anyanka, do you think that's going to scare me off?" Then he was slithering forward on a snakelike stomach, faster than anything she'd seen in a long time, and only the chair right in front of her was able to slow him down enough for her to dodge him.

She broke into a run, her eyes wide with fear, heading desperately down the hall to where she knew that Rupert was sitting with a slowly healing Jenny. He might not help her this time, but at least he'd _know_, he'd see what she'd given up, what she was trying to become…

The Torbin caught her by the foot before she made it to Jenny's room, and she fell to the floor, kicking desperately at the jaw locked around her leg. A second mouth moved quick as lightning to catch her other foot, gnawing at it with hungry teeth.

"Oh, gross!" She gathered her powers and sent a spark of energy at the Torbin, enough to make him rear backward and roar with pain, opening his mouths just enough for her to pull her legs out of them. She dragged herself across the floor by her arms, kicking back desperately at him, and praying that Rupert was still awake, enough to have heard the other demon's cry.

The Torbin changed tactics, flying upward to avoid her feet and hovering above her, preparing to pounce, laughing mockingly at the blows she shot at him. "Oh, come on, Anyanka. You know you're not strong enough to fight me off. All that consorting with humans has made you weak."

She staggered to her feet. "Hardly." Over a thousand years as a vengeance demon hadn't left her helpless, and she twisted with all agility developed over the course of a millennium, reveling in her strength and speed and the magic inherent within her.

But it wasn't enough, not when he was sent to defeat her, and leathery skin was deflecting her blows too easily for her to hurt him at all. He swung his tail around her legs, pulling her back to the ground, and hovered over her, his eyes on her amulet…

"Get away from her," a voice said quietly, and she nearly cried with relief at the sound of Rupert's voice.

"What are you going to do about it, human?" the Torbin spat, rearing upwards to glare at him.

Rupert stretched out his hand, sending the Torbin flying, and murmured a spell. The Torbin burst into flames. "Tell D'Hoffryn that Anyanka is under the protection of the watchers now," he ordered, watching dispassionately as it fled, whirling desperately in an attempt to put out the fire eating at it. "He wants her, he'll have to contend with us."

Then he was at her side, warm, familiar hands running over her body, checking for bruises and injuries and pausing every time they found them to finger each one tenderly. Anya took in a shaky breath, leaning against him. "Do you believe me now?"

Rupert turned to face her, his eyes solemn. "I do."

Anya continued on, the next question more tentative than the first. "Do you…do you forgive me?"

He sighed, brushing a kiss to the top of her head. "I don't know. But you've been trying, and that's enough for now, isn't it?"

"I think so," she informed him, and he smiled at her, the corners of his eyes crinkling in the way that she'd always loved. "And…do you love me?"

"Anya, my dear, my heart…I never stopped."

* * *

Jenny, with the help of a handy antidote that some of the older students had developed, was better by the next afternoon, and Anya and Rupert finally returned to the Academy late that evening.

"I love you," she told him as he pulled her through the doorway to his apartment, and he kissed her joyfully on the lips.

"I love you, too," he assured her, guiding her into his bedroom- which, she noticed with satisfaction, was an absolute mess without her- and onto the bed.

"Wait." She held a finger to his lips.

He frowned at her. "Anya, are you quite all right?"

"Quite. There's just…there's something."

"Oh?"

She nodded. "And if I hold off sex for it, then you'll do it, right? Although holding off sex is just as much a punishment for me as it is for you," she said thoughtfully.

"Anya."

"Mm?" She brushed a kiss across his lips with a sigh of contentment.

"What is it?"

"Oh, right. Xander."

He looked up, perplexed. "Xander? Xander Harris?"

"That's the one." She tried to pout pleadingly, like she'd seen some of the other girls do, but the manipulation felt foreign on her face. "Bring him back."

Rupert sighed. "Anya, he did something unforgivable."

"So did I," she countered, then bit her lip. "You're not going to throw me out now, too, are you?"

"You've shown me that you've changed. And you're the love of my life, not a student here. Technically, you didn't break any rules."

"Xander's changed, too." Anya reconsidered. "Well, actually, I didn't know him before, so I have no idea if he's really changed, but… he saved one of the other students' life!" She beamed with victory.

Rupert stared at her. "What are you talking about?"

"I can't tell," Anya said apologetically. "I promised. But it's true!"

"You promised…never mind that." Rupert looked almost exasperated, so she kissed him soundly until he was lying flat on his back in a happy daze. "And…er…and what would I tell the Council?"

"Make something up. You're good at that." She buried her face in his neck, nuzzling happily. "You're good at everything."

He sighed. "I'll see what I can do." She began unbuttoning his shirt busily, pressing kisses to his chest. "How _did_you meet Xander?"

"Oh, he's staying with Buffy and Faith!" she said brightly. "But that's a secret that they probably don't want you to know, so please don't make him leave. He helped me."

"Helped you what?"

She gave him a blinding smile, certain that she'd never been quite this happy. "Understand."


	43. Chapter 43

A knock at the door in the early afternoon was the one thing guaranteed to make them all jump, and this one was all business: short, curt, abrupt, and clearly a watcher.

"Get in the closet!" Buffy hissed to Xander, making her way over to the door. He complied immediately, burying himself in some of Faith's darkest-colored outfits and holding his breath, peeking out through the clothing to see what was going on.

Buffy opened the door, smiling brightly. "Giles! Wow, I don't think I've ever seen you on this floor. Good to see you! I've actually been wondering if we could talk about something that's been bugging me- or you're going to go right inside," she said, her voice faltering as Giles moved past her. "Uh, it's really gross in here. Girl stuff. Underwear. Bras?" But Giles plunged on peering around the room searchingly, and Xander slid even further into the back of the closet.

"No, not in there!" Buffy was saying frantically. "That's our private space! Isn't there a law against this or something?"

Then Giles was in the closet, parting the clothing to smile down at Xander. "Hello, Xander," he said calmly, holding out a hand.

Xander took it numbly. "Uh…this isn't what it looks like."

"You haven't been hiding here for the past month?" Giles asked, quirking a grin.

"How…Anya," he realized, his eyes narrowing.

Giles softened. "Anya," he agreed.

"You're back together?" Buffy said hopefully from her vantage point on Faith's bed.

"Yes." Giles pulled Xander up, looking him over with a strange satisfaction. "And Xander, allow me to be the first to apologize to you on behalf of the Council."

"What?"

"We had no idea that you had only been out to find Cordelia Chase that night," Giles continued on, ignoring their confusion. "Or that you stumbled upon the werewolf through no fault of your own. It was fortunate that Cordelia finally stepped forward and told her father the whole story, and he was so grateful that he _insisted_ you be permitted to return to the Academy." His eyes twinkled. "Welcome back."

"What?" Xander repeated dumbly.

"Cordy told that whole story?" Buffy asked dubiously.

Giles smiled again, and this time, Xander caught a hint of slyness in it. "Well, she had to be…ah, _reminded_ of some of it, but yes, this was her story."

"I…I'm back?"

"You're back."

He didn't know what to do with his hands. _Backbackbackback,_ something was singing within him, and he didn't know what to do with his hands.

But Giles seemed to understand. He clapped him on the shoulder gently, smiled again- and wow, he really did do that a lot when he and Anya were happy- and reminded him, "You do have quite a bit of work to make up, though, and you'll have to stay in school this summer if you want to graduate with your class."

Xander thought he nodded. "That's…that's good."

"I thought it might be." Giles turned to go. "I'll see you in class first thing tomorrow, Xander."

"Thank you," he blurted out quickly, before Giles could leave.

Giles shook his head. "Don't thank me, Xander. Thank Cordelia. And Anya," he added, and closed the door behind him.

There was a squeal from Faith's bed, and he was suddenly holding an armful of beaming Buffy. "You did it!" she crowed. "You're back!"

"I didn't do anything," he protested. "Anya-"

"Anya loves you," Buffy assured him. "You did _that_. And look, Giles and Anya are back together, too!"

There was the slightest hint of movement from the silent, sullen girl curled up in the corner of her bed, pretending to be asleep, and Xander set Buffy down and moved over to Faith. "Hi," he said quietly.

She made a great show of waking up, stretching and yawning and blinking up at him sleepily. "What?"

"I'm back in school," he told her, grinning. "Thanks for…" He gestured to their room, making sure that he caught Buffy's eye so that she knew she was included in his appreciation. "Thanks for everything."

"Yeah, whatever," she muttered, and Xander could see that she was shivering. He pulled the blanket a little higher over her, but she batted his hands away.

"Listen, Faith…uh…since we're not going to be staying in the same room anymore, and now that I can go out in public…do you want to hang out sometime?" He chewed nervously on the inside of his cheek, awaiting her response.

There was only a groan. "Go to hell, Harris."

And then, because he wasn't quite sure that he was ever going to get through to her, he nodded reluctantly. "I get it, Faith. I do." And he did, and he might just be done now. There was only so much time that he could spend chasing someone who hated the very idea of his presence, after all, and it looked like Faith wasn't going to cave.

So he bent down once more, pressed soft lips against her own, and whispered against them, "Goodbye."

She didn't push him away, and when he finally stood again, her expression was wide and forlorn, vulnerable and fearful and sorrowing all at once. He brushed wisps of hair from her face and gave her a sad smile before he left the room.

Buffy followed him worriedly. "You're not really giving up on her, are you?"

He was silent. "I don't know," he confessed finally. "She doesn't want-"

"She does!" Buffy bit her lip. "She just…She's in pieces. She comes to class barely once a week and when she does, she's falling behind to the bottom third, Gunn's made her go to the doctor six times already, but they haven't found anything, and she barely even talks to _me_. Right now, she doesn't know what she wants. But I do."

"Do you?"

"Of course. I'm her best friend," Buffy said confidently. "And she wants you."

He flashed her a grin. "Who wouldn't?" Suddenly serious, he admitted, "You really…you got me through this. Thank you."

"What are friends for?" She threw her arms around him again and gave him a kiss on the cheek, ignoring the sudden murmurs of surprise from around them as slayers emerged from their rooms for their afternoon training and caught sight of him. "I'll see you later."

"Hey, I've still got the rest of the day off and I don't think I'm ready to explain to Willow that I've been here all along," Xander pointed out. "Why don't I go watch yours and Spike's fight today?"

Buffy flushed. "Um. That. I don't know if it's…" She paused. "I need to shower first, anyway," she said quickly. "If Spike smells that I've been this close to another guy, he'll go crazy."

"Sounds like a healthy relationship you've got," Xander noted, raising an eyebrow. He held up a hand. "Please, shower. Don't make the evil bloodsucker crazy."

* * *

Of course, the evil bloodsucker smelled him anyway, Xander concluded, staring down at the game floor in fascination. Buffy and Spike were moving in perfect tandem, kicking and twisting and snarking away, but Spike was in full vamp face- which Xander had never seen before while observing Buffy's fights- and growling furiously at Buffy.

Finally, Buffy seemed to lose patience with him and darted forward, backing him against the wall and whispering something into his ear, a hand moving forward to stroke the ridges of his face. Almost immediately, the vampire calmed, the ridges fading away and a slow smile spreading across his face. And then he turned to stare at Xander- _ohgodthat'sterrifying_- and gave him a quick, approving nod.

Buffy grinned and tackled Spike again, and now they were fighting again in that dizzyingly synced motion that hurt Xander's head to track, moving rapidly against each other with fists and fangs and stakes all at once, gasping and panting and-

Wait. He leaned closer, frowning. Somehow, the scramble to stake or bite wasn't as businesslike as he remembered from previous fights. _Buffy and Spike are just playing with each other,_ he reminded himself. But this wasn't the kind of playing he'd have expected, Spike flat against the barrier, his hand snaking up to cup Buffy's ass, her own hands tracing the contours of his chest… Vampire and slayer, locked in mortal combat, were doing a pretty good impression of teenagers in the back of the library instead.

They'd been careful about it, Xander noted. The position they were in had them close enough to Gunn's assistant-Sam?- that she didn't feel obligated to circle the barrier, but at the same time, the angle was set just so, so that Sam couldn't tell that more than a battle for a stake was going on. Buffy was throwing back her head as Spike's hands slipped under her top, and Xander couldn't bring himself to look away, the other students in the audience mostly oblivious but a few squirming nervously, everyone caught up in the moment-

-And then Spike was suddenly on the floor, Buffy on top of him and a stake at his chest. "I win!" she crowed. Spike murmured something Xander couldn't catch, and jerked upwards for a second, Buffy reddening. She poked at him good-naturedly. "Shut up, Spike."

He blew her a kiss, and Xander watched with sudden concern as Buffy's eyes lidded and glazed over, lost in a memory that Spike followed her into seconds later, too. She bent downward…

And Sam had the barrier down and was approaching before they went any further. "Good job, Buffy," she said, but even she looked disturbed by the scene, and Xander hurried down the bleachers until he was standing with a reluctantly rising Buffy.

"That's not how I remember vamp fights," he murmured in Buffy's ear, watching the blond vampire cautiously as he backed away from them, heading for the back exit with a watcher.

Spike let out a low, territorial growl, and Xander took a step away from Buffy. Buffy rolled her eyes. "Stop being an idiot, Spike," she ordered him, moving closer to Xander. But her eyes were sending the vampire reassurance, and he calmed immediately, flashing her a smirk and heading off.

"It's not- We're not-" She sighed. "Let's not talk about this, okay?"

He wasn't ready to comply, but then Willow came tearing into the room to enfold him in a hug and tearfully welcome him back, and after that Jesse was organizing a welcome home party; and by the time he remembered his earlier worries about Buffy and Spike, it was already time to go to sleep- and thankfully, in his own bed, for the first time in what seemed like forever.

* * *

After the jam-packed action that had begun the calendar year, the next few months passed surprisingly peacefully. Xander spent most of his time falling further and further behind in classes, but Willow had taken to tutoring him nightly and while he was still behind, he found that he was understanding the older material better than usual. _Nothing like some time away to make even school seem fun,_ he mused.

He rarely saw Faith in class at first, but after the slayers went on Spring Break in Hell with the next year of watchers, Faith was around more, coming to class and slouching in her chair, uninterested in what was going on around her and doodling hard, angry lines into her notebook. A few times, he'd brushed past her and peeked at it, curious, and saw that she'd been drawing the same thing, over and over again. A dark-haired vampire- stick figures, of course, since Faith was no artist- with his fangs in a girl's throat. The same vampire with his hand up the girl's…_place_. The vampire driving her into the ground while the girl flailed. He'd shuddered and tried to make conversation with her, but she'd brushed him off and vanished into her room to hide, yet again.

He'd finally decided to move on and get over his fixation on Faith, so he'd asked Tara out and was humbled when she'd politely turned him down. Faith had watched him silently for days after that, and he was tempted to keep asking girls out, just because it seemed to be the only way to get Faith's attention. But he didn't, especially not after Buffy heard about Tara and gave him hurt, angry looks for nearly a week until she was satisfied that he wasn't over Faith.

He was beginning to suspect that he'd never be over Faith.

On some afternoons, as summer drew closer, Anya would venture from the safety of Giles's apartment and come spend time with him and Buffy, and those were the best days of all, peaceful and lazy and simple. An idea was beginning to take seed in his mind, and Buffy and Anya were some of the best coconspirators when it came to this. He thought he'd finally found a solution, but it was going to take time and help from his loyal friends.

Finally, the year was almost over and they were heading to one of the big training rooms as Giles went through the results of a test they'd taken a few weeks before to ascertain where in the watchers' vast system they might be best equipped to work after graduation. Beginning next year, they were going to be trained specifically for certain roles, and some were starting even earlier.

Like Willow, who was excited to tell them about a summer internship with Mr. Rayne she'd been offered. "He only picks one student a year, and he picked me!"

"And this is surprising why?" Buffy asked, quirking an eyebrow. Somehow, the large group that they'd once been, back in the height of the slayer-watcher battles, had shrunk more and more after Oz had left. Jesse and Cordelia had moved off into their own little world, Willow and Tara had grown apart for reasons Willow hadn't shared, and Faith was still in her tortured solitude, so now it was just the three of them walking together to the training rooms.

Willow waved a hand dismissively. "Well, there's always Amy, right? I didn't know_for sure_."

"Does this mean you're staying for the summer?" Xander wanted to know.

Willow nodded, grinning. "It's going to be all three of us here this year." She frowned. "But Xander, you really need to concentrate on your schoolwork."

"And Buffy needs to concentrate a little less on her fighting," Xander said slyly, watching as Buffy reddened. Gunn had gotten a bit stricter about Buffy's fights with Spike after they'd antagonized him one too many times, and now she was only allowed to fight him once a week. Xander was secretly relieved. No relationship with a vampire could ever end well, not even if the vampire's morals were a little less shaky than was standard.

"Not to obviously change the topic or anything; but Willow, what about Tara?" Buffy asked, playfully narrowing her eyes at Xander.

Willow shrugged, her enthusiasm deflating. "I guess she's going home."

"But don't you two work as a team?"

"This might be easier." Willow bit her lip. "Tara tends to…she puts up barriers where there don't need to be any, and the magic is weaker then. Working without her will be better for my magic."

"Uh huh." Buffy exchanged a glace with Xander, and they both shrugged. "Really not my forte, but I'll take your word for it."

They walked into the training room, looking for their folders on the table set up at the entrance. Xander snagged his and flipped through it, raising his eyebrows in surprise. "Hey, it recommends me as a special ops watcher or combat specialist! Cool!"

"I'm a witch," Willow observed dryly. "What a fantastic surprise."

"And I'm a combat specialist, too," Buffy said quietly.

"Yeah." Xander grinned. "We could be out on the field together, right? Watcher, witch, and slayer."

"That would be nice," Buffy said, suddenly distant.

Willow frowned at her. "What's up?"

Buffy shrugged. "It's just…I don't know, this is the first time that I've ever been told that I'll be something other than slayer. It's kind of…" She stopped, giving them an apologetic look. "Forget it. It's a potential thing. It's stupid."

"It doesn't sound stupid," Willow said softly. "You've been preparing for this your whole life."

"Yeah." Buffy sighed. "I guess…if I do turn twenty without being called, I'd try to get a job as one of Gunn's assistants, like Sam did last year. I'd rather still be working, training slayers instead of just giving up on that part of my life."

_And you'd still be around a certain vampire all the time,_ Xander thought, although he didn't dare say anything out loud. But he was certain that that, more than anything else, was the deciding factor when Buffy thought about her future.

How very troubling.


	44. Chapter 44

"This is nice," she sighed, leaning against the bars beside her.

A hand snaked out between the bars to stroke her arm, creeping upward to run against her neck. "Yeah," Spike agreed quietly. "It is."

She turned to look him in the eyes, to really grasp where he was right then, and saw nothing but a soft, cool mask. "What's the matter?"

He shook his head. "Everything's fine." But he still seemed guarded, and it worried her. "How was your fight today?"

She shrugged. "It wasn't you, that's for sure. Some guy named Ty. I don't even think he was a master."

"Ty…" Spike frowned. "I think he was one of Knox's."

"Who's Knox?"

And again, that distant mask seemed to settle on his face. "Nobody you need to worry about, pet." And then he was moving to stand. "You should go now."

She stayed stubbornly seated, glaring up at him. "You don't get to tell me what to do."

"Kitten…"

"No!" She sagged against the side of the cell. "Look, Spike, everything's pretty crappy these days, and this is the only time that I'm actually…" She stopped.

Spike bent back down, his face darkening with concern. "Actually…?"

"Happy," she sighed. "You make me happy." It was more than she'd ever exposed to him before, and she looked up, suddenly afraid of his reaction. Really, Buffy wasn't the kind to reveal herself, even to her friends. She kept herself guarded by nature, letting only what was happening in the now affect her visibly and leaving the rest of her inner turmoil bottled up inside. And even admitting to Spike that he made her happy was a step further than she'd planned to go.

But instead of recoiling or laughing, a soft smile spread across Spike's features and his hands moved to cup her face and turn it to face him. "You make me happy, too. S'a fair exchange."

"Oh." She longed then to unlock the cage, more than ever before, and that urge frightened her, made her grateful that she'd given the key back. She'd never thought that the need to be close to Spike would trump the innate wariness she'd always had of him, but now, when all she wanted to do was kiss him against her, drink in that wonderful sensation of Spike that had been seared into her memory through passion alone, he was on the other side of a cage, of bars that wouldn't bend for even the strongest of demons.

And some of the devastation in her thoughts must have reached her eyes, because suddenly, Spike was even closer, his hands running down to her back, to hold her quietly. "I know, love," he crooned. "I know."

She closed her eyes for a moment. "What's wrong with us- with me?" she whispered. "You're a vampire."

"You could be slayer," Spike said softly. "This is just as buggered up for me."

"I won't be," she murmured. "And it's different for you. You just think of me as…as…" _As a diversion. As someone fun to fight, but never to love. As an occasional substitute for your lover in the next cage._ But she didn't say any of it, not when there was still the nagging fear that he'd confirm it all.

His brow was wrinkled in confusion. "Buffy, it's no different than it is for you. I…" And then he stopped, and she was hit by a realization, because he was just like her, wasn't he? They were a pair, so unsure of their own feelings and what they meant to each other that neither one of them could qualify it, could really explain what was going on for the other. This was alien territory. And Spike was afraid, too.

Afraid of giving her too much? Afraid of leading her on? Maybe. Afraid that she didn't reciprocate his feelings? Much less likely. But a girl could dream…

And then Spike was smiling again, his hands moving upward to rest at the back of her head, and he tugged her forward until she was up against the bars, half her face squashed between two of them. He leaned forward, angular cheekbones stopped by the same bars, and now they were close enough for Spike to press his lips to hers clumsily. It was the most unromantic kiss she'd ever been given. And it moved something inside of her so deeply that she nearly wept.

He backed away, grinning self-deprecatingly. "Well, that was pathetic."

She shrugged. "A little," she agreed, but her eyes were swimming with adoration and her hand was moving to touch Spike's again.

"I'd agree with the pathetic part," Angelus drawled, finally emerging from the back room where he'd been lurking since she'd arrived. Buffy had been wondering why he'd been so silent, though occasional murmurs and shrieks from the back of his cage had painted her a vivid enough picture.

And sure enough, she was answered moments later by an annoyed growl from the Aurelian matriarch. "Angelus! I told you to stay back here!"

Angelus shrugged. "Look at them," he said with disdain. "Nothing's going to keep her away now. Little Buffy's in _love_," he announced, and Buffy flushed scarlet.

"Just ignore him," Spike murmured when her hands stilled. "He's trying to get a rise out of you."

She stepped away from him. "He's succeeding," she muttered, stalking over to Angelus.

The vampire took a step back, too far away for her to reach. "You're adorable," he said, grinning. "Young, innocent…virginal…" He licked his lips. "Just my flavor."

Buffy didn't budge, unafraid. "So is that supposed to scare me?" she asked, eyebrows raised. "Because I spend all my time with teenage boys. And you and them? About the same."

Angelus smirked. "With a mouth on you, too." He moved a hand down to frame his bulging crotch. "When I get out of here, I'm going to take you as my own, chain you up naked and bleeding and fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until you choke on my come and-"

Spike flung himself against the neighboring cage with a roar of fury, fully vamped and clawing desperately at Angelus.

Angelus shrugged, not intimidated at all. "Oh, you're in deep, boy," he said calmly. "Darla, I think you've put too much faith in Willy here."

Buffy stared at him. "Too much faith for what?"

Spike growled again, yellow eyes hard and furious, and Buffy moved back to his cage, holding out a hand to him. He slowly, reluctantly, disentangled himself from the side bars of his cell and stalked over to Buffy, eyes still furious. "He's all talk," she said softly, moving to trace the lines of his face. Slowly, they relaxed again into his human face. "Okay? He's all talk."

Spike kissed her hand. "He isn't," he murmured, looking more disturbed than she'd ever seen him.

She smiled winningly, comfortingly. "I've got to go now," she announced, pressing a finger to his lips. "But I'll see you later, okay?"

"Yeah." He searched her face, still worried, but she kept it blank and calm, projecting a peaceful air.

Only once she'd left the vampire area of the basement and entered the little nook that led to the elevator up on one side and the scientists' base on the other did she sink to the floor, shaking with uncontrollable fear.  
_  
"Just my flavor… I'm going to chain you up naked and bleeding and fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until you choke on my come and-"  
_  
Oh, god. She was terrified of Angelus, more than she'd been even after what had happened to Faith. He was going to kill her, to kill them all, to _"chain you up naked and bleeding and fuck that pretty little mouth of yours until you choke on my come and-"  
_  
She squeezed her eyes shut, suppressing the urge to cry. It didn't matter. He was locked up and harmless, and he'd never be able to touch her. It didn't matter.

She stood up reluctantly, made her way to the elevator, and went back upstairs. There was still some noise, even at this late hour; one of the potentials was turning twenty the next day and leaving the school, and her grade had thrown her a goodbye party in the training room that sounded like it was still going strong.

She walked down the hall and turned a corner just as two watchers emerged from the training room door behind her. "-And it's just not fun anymore," the watcher was saying. "Spike used to get into it, you know? He'd put on a show, look at us during the fights…he even winked at me once. Now he only fights that Buffy, and he barely even notices the rest of us. He's more interested in trying to make out with her under Gunn's nose than in the fight."

"It's true," the other watcher agreed. Buffy vaguely remembered her from her journey over to the Academy, six years before. _Fred?_ "Spike really likes Buffy. I mean, aren't there rules against that sort of thing? Vampires and potentials aren't supposed to mix, and if they do-"

"It happened one time," the other watcher said, suddenly sober, and Buffy froze. If they knew about Faith… "Before you got here. I was really little, so I didn't hear much," the watcher continued, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief. "But rumor has it that something happened between a potential and a vampire, and it didn't end well."

"Really?" Fred asked, interested. "No one's ever mentioned it before."

"It was just rumors, I think. No one knew the real story." The other watcher sighed. "Whatever. It doesn't matter. I'm just annoyed with this whole Spike thing."

"Maybe it's for the best," Fred suggested. "I mean, there are other people to crush on, right? Like… some of the teachers aren't half-bad."

The other watcher snorted. "Don't be gross, Fred." Her voice brightened. "Hey, how about that Angelus guy? He's a hottie. And he'd be into the whole adoring audience thing, too."

"He _is_ pretty cute," Fred said, giggling.

The watchers turned the corner and came face-to-face with Buffy. "Oh. You," the other watcher said with disdain.

Buffy was silent, regarding them with weariness borne of knowledge. The second watcher sniffed and moved on, Fred just behind her.

Buffy watched them go, feeling suddenly old. They all looked at this like it was a game, the vampires like they were celebrities. She'd done that too, not too long ago. But hearing them talk about Angelus so casually, giggling about the monster who'd threatened her just minutes before…now she understood. The Academy was right to imprison creatures as twisted and evil as vampires.

_Things_ like Angelus should never be allowed to roam free.

* * *

"You're upset," Spike observed later that week, the next time they fought.

She slid downward, kicking his feet out from under him and knocking him on top of her. "Why would you say that?"

"I'm not blind, Buffy. I know that Angelus got to you." He raised himself slightly, and she arched toward him, instinctively seeking more contact. "Buffy, he can't touch you."

"He's planning to get out of there," Buffy pointed out. "He almost succeeded last time, too." She glanced up at the bleachers, where Faith was sitting silently, her arms wrapped tightly around herself and her eyes on Xander, who was sitting with Anya a few levels down. Summer vacation had started two days before, and most of the other students were gone, so Buffy had managed to persuade Faith to leave her room and come watch a fight, but now she was regretting it. She hadn't thought that Xander would come, much less bring Anya, and Faith looked horribly jealous.

Well, maybe that was a good thing.

"He won't try again," Spike assured her. "He thinks he has a foolproof plan."

"What?" Buffy wriggled a bit, noticing with satisfaction that the area she was moving against was getting larger and larger as she pushed up against him. Mm. A sudden surge of pleasure shot through her.

Spike raised an eyebrow, looking pointedly at her. A cold fear ran through her. "Me?"

"You and me," Spike clarified. "Darla thinks that that's what this is."

"I get it." She shoved him off of her and stood up, forcing her face to remain calm. "Fine." She pulled out her stake and smashed it downward.

He rolled out of the way, rising again and heading toward her, knocking the stake aside. "That's _not_ what I'm doing with you," he informed her, a hand on either side of her and against the barrier. "It's what Darla needs to believe so that they think they have a plan."

She looked up at him through lidded eyes. "And what _are_ you doing with me?" she demanded.

"Keeping you safe," he said immediately. "Kitten, I'd spend the rest of my unlife in that cell if it meant that you were protected from Angelus."

"Oh." She stared at him wide-eyed, her lips parted in surprise and her heart pounding, and he bent to kiss her automatically, mouths fused and tongues battling for what was only seconds before Spike was thrown from her and her mouth was tingling with electricity.

Gunn stormed toward them, the barrier dropping as he approached, and slammed his fist into Spike's face. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he spat, furious, and Buffy took a step forward, suddenly terrified for Spike. Gunn's eyes were dark, his voice low and crazed, and Buffy had never seen him look so livid. "Stay the fucking hell away from her, you bastard!"

In the stands, Faith was gasping for breath, rocking back and forth as panic overtook her, and Xander was suddenly at her side, supporting her, until she was finally calm again and stalked away.

"Gunn. Gunn, wait! Please!" She tried to grab him by the arm, but he swung backward, sending her flying, and she landed in a crouch and ran back to him. "It's fine! It's fine!"

Gunn pounded at Spike with the energy of a madman until the vampire was writhing on the ground helplessly, tattoos of blue and black erupting all over his beautiful face. Buffy recoiled. "Stop! Stop it!"

And finally, Spike saw the genuine fear in her eyes and threw Gunn off of him, rising unsteadily and staggering over to where she was standing. She stepped in front of him, holding a hand up as Gunn approached. "Wait! He's not…it wasn't…"

"It was just a diversionary thing," Spike supplied.

Gunn scowled, coming closer again. "Shut up, _demon_."

"It was!" Buffy took a deep breath. "I mean, Spike and I do stuff like that all the time to beat on each other. It's legitimate fighting, really."

Gunn was unconvinced, his eyes shifting back to Spike with hatred. "You. I told you I'd stake you if-"

Buffy thought fast, frantic. "But really, Spike? _Kissing_ me? Um, ew?" She made a show of wiping off her mouth, disgusted. "I don't kiss vampires." She turned back to Gunn. "I don't want to fight him anymore."

"You don't?" Gunn stopped short, surprised.

"Buffy!" Spike sounded annoyed.

Buffy shrugged, shooting Spike a significant look. _I'm saving your life, you idiot. Stop whining._ "Well, not this often, anyway. I need to learn how to fight vamps for real, and all you do is fight dirty." She curled her lip in disgust. "I still have_Spike_ taste in my mouth. Gross." Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Gunn calm by about a fraction of an inch.

She sighed expansively. "I'm done with this. See you around." She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, Anya and Xander trailing behind.

Xander spoke as soon as the doors closed behind them. "What-"

"Shh!" She moved back to the door, peeking through the double windows. Gunn was speaking to Spike in low, angry tones, and Spike was looking down in contrition so false that Buffy almost smiled, despite her worry. Almost.

But he only hit him one more time before they left the room together through the back door, and Buffy breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, _that_ was an understandable overreaction," Anya commented, shrugging.

"Understandable?" Buffy said, outraged. "What's understandable about beating up-"

"A vampire macking on one of his slayers?" Xander finished dryly. "Gee, I wonder."

Buffy sighed, her anger dissipating as quickly as it had come. "Yeah, I guess so. It's just...it wasn't like I didn't _want_ it," she muttered, flushing.

"Yes, you were quite obvious about that," Anya agreed.

Xander laughed, but it didn't quite hide the troubled look on his face. "Yeah. I think the only reason Gunn let Spike go was because you said you didn't want to fight him anymore."

Buffy shrugged. "Well, I don't."

They both stared at her.

"For a week or two, anyway," she finished. "He needs time to heal. And maybe Gunn'll cool down by then."

"Probably not," Anya said helpfully. "He has good reason not to. I need to go make dinner for Rupert now. Goodbye!" And she was off before they could question her on her cryptic response. Which, in retrospect, might have been her goal all along.

Xander blinked. "That was odd."

"Yep."

"Want to go find Will and get some pizza?"

"Sounds good." She touched a hand to her lips and smiled. _Mm…Spike taste..._


	45. Chapter 45

The magic that surrounded her rose higher and higher, reaching a crescendo, until she was panting with exertion and struggling to keep it all intact as it grew. Slowly, slowly, she eased herself out of the equation, _pushing_ the magic so that it no longer overwhelmed and merely accompanied, and let the words of the spell out as she did.

"Excellent work," Ethan said approvingly, putting a hand on her shoulder to calm the energy churning beneath the surface. "Quite an improvement from the past few months."

Tara's departure from the school for summer had been good for Willow. With only her closest friends present at the school and no one to distract her from her magic, she could feel her powers growing in leaps and bounds, surging from her in everything she did. "I've been working on it," she said, trying to sound modest.

"You've done well." Ethan put a hand on her shoulder, and she shivered. "Come. Try to work with me."

Ethan's magic was darkness, so sly and subtle that she wasn't even aware that he'd penetrated her defenses before she was suddenly propelled into the air, shaking uncontrollably with the blackness that had permeated her being in moments, before it had even touched her own.

Somewhere deep inside, a spark of light emerged, brought out by the roiling black energy to combat it, a spark that glowed with purity and goodness and was unmistakably _Tara_. Willow shuddered, something within her reaching for it, needing it, and embracing it as she once had, familiarity warring with a need for power and the spark chasing away some of the darkness.

"Control yourself, Willow!" Ethan's sharp voice jolted her and she recoiled, rejecting the light that was Tara from within her, fearful of what it meant and what it could do to her. Tara interfered with her magic. And yet, there was something rank about Ethan's energy, something that turned her off of it even as he drew closer, and she thought of Tara again, not the beautiful, wise girl but the flowing magic that she'd given Willow in the past. Tara had always made Willow feel stronger with what she had. Ethan's magic…Ethan's magic made her feel_dirty_. Unclean. And immeasurably powerful.

She closed her eyes, letting Ethan's magic join with her own, letting the power grow to a new high, and tried valiantly to push thoughts of lightness from her mind. But Tara fought back, harder and harder, until abruptly, the magic within her fizzled and died from the strain of fighting itself. "No!"

And then Ethan was standing in front of her, arms clenched around her own and his expression dark and angry. "What did you do?" he demanded, and she shook with the realization that she'd stolen the power Ethan had given her away, too, with her inner battle.

And then came the second realization, the knowledge that her powers were _gone_. Just like that, she'd been reverted to the level she'd been at nine years before, all her pent-up power lost. Eventually, it would replenish itself, but she couldn't stop the fear gripping her at the thought of being defenseless and weak, even for a short while.

"I don't know," she lied, pushing at Tara's still-enduring spark again. _Even when she isn't around, she's still ruining things for me,_ she thought bitterly.

"Hm." Ethan considered. "Something's in you, fighting your magic, and it's going to take a stronger dose than this to eradicate it."

Willow blinked. "What do you mean?"

But before she'd finished the sentence, Ethan was tearing open a portal and motioning her through, nodding encouragingly, his anger forgotten.

"This won't work for the way back," Ethan was explaining, but Willow tuned him out, too taken aback by her surroundings. It looked…well, it looked almost like the doctor's office she visited each summer in Sunnydale. There were couches strategically set up against the walls, a closed door in the back area, and, just like a doctor's office, there were sick people. They were everywhere, slumped over couches and lying on the floor, shuddering and writhing and looking utterly beaten.

But they weren't sick, not really. Willow didn't need her magic to feel the unhealthy dark power pouring off the strangers in waves, the magic overdone and their own reliance on it killing them. It felt…_wrong_. She shuddered. For the first time in her life, magic wasn't a friend or an ally, but something that broke down strangers and left them shattered husks. _Could that be me someday?_ Instinctively, she sought out that last little bit of white magic Tara had left behind and drew closer to it, feeling it love her and keep her safe, protected from the horrors around her.

"Stop that," Ethan said, frowning, and she reluctantly let it go. "That _thing_ you're clinging to is keeping you from growing, Willow."

"I know." And she did. She really, really did, but the goodness in it thrilled her and she couldn't help but embrace it. Though if it was a choice between her power and that little bit of Tara…

_Stop it!_ she remonstrated. _You hate what Tara's done to you, and your magic is more important than anything else you've ever done. Stop sabotaging yourself! Just...stop._

Ethan opened the door in the back and she followed him inside, forcibly shoving her doubts away. "Rack!" he called, and a tall, slim man who radiated with power emerged from the shadows.

"What have you got for me today, Ethan?" Rack had a voice like soft gravel, and Willow flinched when he approached, running a hand down to cup her face.

"Burnout," Ethan said, and he and Rack both laughed unkindly. Willow wanted to say something, to do anything but cringe with trepidation, and the same sensations she used to feel when Cordelia and her cronies used to gang up on her after class were washing through her. She felt young and stupid and inadequate, someone for the warlocks to laugh at because she was so weak and undisciplined, and her face burned with embarrassment She rejected the spark of light magic again. This was all the fault of the persistent shards of power, she knew. She_hated_ this.

"C-Can you get rid of it?" she asked finally, and the two men turned to stare at her. "The thing that's making me all wonky?"

"Of course." Rack played with a little glass bauble in his hand for a moment, looking to Ethan for permission. Ethan shrugged, uncaring.

And that was it.

She'd never known anything like this before, this energy that dropped over her as silent as a sheet of darkness, so sudden and extreme that it was all she knew. She thought that she was in the air, plastered against the ceiling, but it didn't matter to her- nothing outside of this new plane of existence did. She was surrounded, enveloped by darkness, so deep and thick that she could nearly taste it-

-And it felt _good_, like the sweetest of forbidden fruits, filling her with a lazy power beyond even what she'd been able to sense from Ethan, strong and overwhelming until she was giddy from the power of it, the sensation that she could do_anything_, anywhere, anytime… She rocketed through the magic, devouring it with a hunger that surprised even herself, desperate to absorb every last bit of the treat that had been given to her.

"Again." She heard Ethan's voice from afar, and felt Rack pour even more dark magic into her, this time falling over that tiny spark of light she'd been fighting. It bogged it down, pulled it away, saturated it with darkness so completely that it fought one last valiant battle and fell to her new power.

And at that moment, buoyed by the power Rack had given her, Willow finally understood that spark, because it hadn't been Tara at all.

It had been _her_, the last little piece of her left untouched by black magic, and she wept for its disappearance, for the evaporation of her last vestiges of light and innocence.

And then the power inundating her reached another high and she focused on it, grimly pushing thoughts of what she'd lost from her mind in favor of thoughts of the new path ahead of her, a horizon bright and filled with promises of power.

* * *

"Will?" Buffy frowned at her friend as she plopped down beside her on the lawn, a dinner tray in her hand. It might have been the setting sun, but Willow's hair looked almost black today, the reddish color faded almost completely. "What have you been doing?"

"Magic!" Willow said breathlessly, turning dark, opaque eyes to the potential. "Oh, Buffy, you wouldn't believe some of the things Ethan's been teaching me! I feel like my whole body is buzzing with- bursting with power. _Ah_." She moaned with pure pleasure, and Buffy edged away, feeling suddenly uncomfortable.

"Sounds like," she said uncertainly, glancing down at the food. Willow's hands_were_ buzzing around the tray, a barely visible dark aura surrounding them. "You sure you're okay?"

"I'm perfect!" Willow collected her into a sudden hug. "You know, at first I had my doubts about all this because of Tara, but…god! How could anyone turn down this kind of power?"

Buffy watched her uneasily. "Uh…what about Tara?"

Willow laughed carelessly. "Oh, she's just jealous and in love with me, so she makes a big fuss about the magic. I'm so glad she's gone!"

"In _love_ with you?" Buffy repeated. Something was off about Willow today. She was…well, more open, somehow, more free, and Buffy didn't think she'd even seen anything so unsettling before. Willow was the solid one, not this… _flaky_, off in a magical dreamland and uncaring of the destruction she wrought in the process.

"Yep. Would you believe it?" Willow giggled. "Tara's a lesbian! And she totally wigs me out now. I mean, she wants to make out with me and do sexy stuff, and can you imagine that?" Her eyes went wide as she clearly began imagining it herself. "I'd do sexy stuff with her! I think. Sometimes we used to do stuff, and it always felt so nice, and Tara's so pretty! Don't you think so, Buffy?"

"Uh…sure." Buffy chewed on a carrot stick, her eyes carefully averted from her friend's. "Look, did you-"

"I knew you'd think so!" Willow threw her arms around Buffy again. "You like Faith like that, too!" She lowered her voice conspiratorially. "So, what's it like with a girl? Does it feel as good?"

Buffy's mouth was suddenly very dry. "Willow, what's wrong with you?"

"Nothing!" Willow said cheerily, tossing hair that was undoubtedly black in Buffy's face. "I'm just so happy! I've never gotten this far in my magic before, you know?"

"I guess…"

Willow lay down against the grass, spread-eagled, watching the sky above them with glee. "Watch this!" A murmured word and the tree behind them was falling forward, straight at them.

"Oh, god." Slayer training kicked in and Buffy dropped to the ground, rolling Willow out of the way of the falling tree, watching with horror as it dropped in slow motion. "What did you _do_?"

"No, look! It's fine," Willow assured her, pointing upwards, and suddenly, the tree was hovering above them in midair, black energy emerging from Willow's finger to surround the tree. "See?"

"Put it down!" Buffy ordered, her eyes wide. "_Now_!"

Willow pouted. "I don't want to." And then she was pulling up another tree several feet away, roots still hanging from the bottom as it joined the other in the sky. "Bet Tara couldn't do _this_ with her magic," she said smugly.

Buffy shook her head disbelievingly. "God, Willow, what's wrong with you?" Had it been anything else, with anyone else, she would have left already. She wasn't an enabler, and she wasn't going to help Willow continue whatever insanity she was going through. But it was her best friend, and she had the sinking feeling that Willow would be even more out of control when unrestrained.

Willow turned glowing eyes to her. "Everything's _right_, Buffy, don't you see? I've been having all these doubts about my magic lately, if I was good enough and strong enough and _everything_, and now I know." She whirled around again, the trees turning with her, and Buffy watched with more than a modicum of dread. "I_am_."

* * *

"You okay?" Xander frowned at Buffy, who was standing in the doorway of his room and looked worryingly pale. "What's wrong?" A terrifying thought occurred to him. "Is it Faith?"

Buffy shook her head. "Just…come with me, okay? You'll see."

He followed her obediently to her room at the rapid pace she'd set. "Sorry," she apologized. "Just…I don't want to leave her alone with Faith for this long."

"Her?"

"You'll see," Buffy repeated, pushing the door open just in time for him to hear Willow say, "Hey, you've got a vamp bite! When did that happen?"

"Damn." Buffy moved swiftly over to her bed, where Willow was sitting patiently, crooking a finger at a stake on the floor nearly as large as Xander. "Will, I brought Xander."

Willow beamed at him. "Xander! Watch this!" She snapped her fingers and the stake was back to its standard size.

"Wow?" he ventured, glancing at Buffy. She shrugged helplessly.

Willow's eyes darkened, and he noticed suddenly that they were black with magic. "That's all you're going to say? Aren't you excited! This kind of magic-"

"-Is for school, not the dorms," Buffy cut her off. "It's dangerous."

Willow turned to glare at Buffy. "Oh, like you're one to talk, Miss Made-Out-With-A-Vampire!" Xander turned automatically to check on Faith. She was lying on her bed, staring fixedly at the ceiling, her lips pressed together tightly and her hands clenched.

"That was different," Buffy said quietly. "I was being supervised at the time. Spike wasn't going to hurt me."

"Oh, that's right!" Willow perked up, continuing in a singsong voice. "Spike likes me, Spike takes care of me, I'll sneak down to the basement every night to go spend more time with him…where's the supervision there, huh, Buffy?"

_No._ Buffy wouldn't go down to the basement alone, not after what had happened to Faith. _But for Spike…_ Of course she would, and he'd been an idiot to overlook the signs. He'd been so convinced that Spike was practically on their side that he'd assumed that Buffy was safe. But she was in just as deep as Faith had been, and- _Oh, no. Faith!_

He glanced over at her with rising concern. An expression of utter desolation and terror had fallen across the potential's face and her lips parted, mouthing Buffy's name silently. "I told you that in confidence," Buffy was murmuring, but Xander ignored her, bending over to touch Faith reassuringly. She jerked away from him, but he persisted, taking her hand in his and holding on until she finally relaxed in his grip.

Willow tossed her hair- and that was also oddly dark, Xander realized- disdainfully. "Well, you're one to talk. Hypocrite!"

"Faith…" Buffy turned her attentions to her roommate, ignoring the out-of-control witch sitting next to her. "Faith, can we talk about this? Please?"

But Faith was shaking her head. "I can't believe that you'd…that you would…"

"It's different!" Buffy said pleadingly. "You know it's different! Spike isn't-"

Faith's eyes darkened. "They all are," she said simply, letting Xander's hand go. "I won't watch you do this to yourself."

"A slayer in love with a vampire," Willow mused. "It's like you're _asking_ for it."

"Shut up, Will," Xander snapped, and she reared back in surprise at the harshness in his voice.

"Xander?" For a moment, she was herself again, whatever magic had revved her up fading away to leave her vulnerable and hurt, but then she shrugged indifferently and turned her attentions to the small lamp on the night table, flipping it on and off with easy magic.

Xander stared blankly at the scene before him, his three girls frozen in a tableau of betrayal, guilt, and careless freedom. He'd thought that the worst was over when Faith had been pulled from Angelus, but now he knew it was only beginning.

"Buffy, come with me." He found a basin under the sink in the bathroom, turning on cold water to fill it up. "You can't do this," he informed Buffy.

She sighed. "Look, I know what you're thinking-"

"I'm thinking that Willow's lost it and Faith's in pieces, and I can't do this alone," he said, shaking his head. "I can't lose you, too."

Her eyes softened and she wrapped an arm around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder. "You're not going to, Xan. I'm not stupid. I know the risks better than anyone."

"Then stop," he murmured, meeting her eyes in the mirror. "If you won't do it for yourself, do it for Faith."

Buffy averted her eyes, watching the water rush into the basin. "Xander, what if it were Faith down there, a vampire you could only see once a week for battle, and now even less often? What would you do then?"

He was quiet for a moment, considering. "Are in love with him?" he asked warily.

She inhaled slowly. "I don't know." She reached over to turn off the faucet. "But if I did…if I were in love with him like you're in love with Faith…would you understand?"

"He's a vampire," Xander said helplessly.

She met his gaze evenly. "I haven't forgotten."

They lifted the basin together, carrying it back into the room. Willow frowned at them. "Hey, what are you- aaugh!" The entire basin of freezing cold water was overturned on her head. "What was that for?" But her eyes were finally clearing up, and she was taking in deep, gulping breaths, shivering at the sudden chill.

"Snap out of it, Will," Buffy coaxed, and Xander grabbed a towel to wrap around Willow. "You've been all magicky for too long."

"Oh. Yeah." She bit her lip, turning a mortified gaze to them. "I'm so sorry, Buffy! I don't know what came over me. It was like…the magic was just…"

She was getting dreamy-eyed again, and Xander winced inwardly. "Just keep it in class from now on, Will. Okay?"

She nodded earnestly, giving them her most apologetic face. "I just need more practice. Thanks for taking care of me, guys."

Buffy gave her a hug, though Xander could see the strained cheerfulness in her eyes. "Come on, let's get you back to your room before you get hypothermia."

"That's it?" Faith muttered as soon as the other girls had left.

Xander shrugged good-naturedly. "It's _Willow_," he explained. "She's not going to do something like that again, whatever it was. She's too smart for that."

"Bully for her." Faith looked away. "Are you going now?"

He felt a flash of irritation. "I'm sorry for bothering you with my presence," he said, rising stiffly. "Since you hate being around me that much."

He was nearly out the door when she called his name, and he turned sharply. "What?"

She stared at him with a hesitant gaze, and his anger melted away as quickly as it had come. There was something about Faith, whenever she opened up to him, that turned him instantly into her willing slave, and he found that he didn't quite mind. "What is it?" he repeated in a gentler tone.

"I don't hate-" She stopped, chewing on her lip uncertainly. "I mean… Never mind," she said finally.

He smiled softly. "I know," he murmured, closing the door behind him as he left.

* * *

Giles's apartment was in the far wing of the school, on the top floor where students weren't permitted to enter, so Anya was waiting for him in the stairwell on the way up there. "You seem happy," she observed. "Has Faith finally had sex with you?"

"No." He shook his head ruefully. Conversations with Anya were an acquired taste that he was beginning to learn how to enjoy.

Anya considered. "Did Buffy have sex with you?"

"Not even a little." He sank down to sit on the stairs beside her. "Did Giles buy it?"

She grinned. "I had to tie him up and gag him first, and then I gave him-"

"Anya!"

"He did," she continued without skipping a beat.

He closed his eyes, sighing in relief. "Good."

Maybe things would work out, after all.


	46. Chapter 46

At first, Buffy hadn't even noticed that Faith wasn't talking to her. Faith was prone to giving Buffy the occasional cold shoulder, but it had never been her style to make a big deal about it. That was childish and petty and something that Buffy and Faith had always associated with the media, and not real life. So when Faith chose to ignore Buffy, she did it in the form of mumbled responses and simulated sleeping, more standoffish than outright ignoring. And Faith had been fairly distant for the past few months, anyway, so Buffy hadn't thought much of the fact that she'd barely spoken to her roommate in weeks.

But as the end of the summer grew closer and Faith spent more and more days alone at the beach, Buffy finally realized that the other girl had been giving her the silent treatment for a long, long time.

Granted, she should have expected it the instant that Faith found out that she'd been going to the basement alone. Faith wasn't going to stop her or try to control her, but she wasn't going to treat her the same anymore, not after a betrayal like the one Buffy had wrought. On the other hand, though, there was no way that Buffy was going to give Spike up, not even for Faith.

She leaned against the side of his cage, watching him fondly as he bickered with Darla. "…And no more shagging between the bars!" he finished.

Darla rolled her eyes. "What, poor little Buffy can't take it anymore?"

"_I_ can't take it anymore," Spike retorted, turning back to give Buffy an apologetic look. He lowered his voice, and she knew that they were plotting, discussing how best to manipulate her for Darla's machinations. She kept a smile fixed on her face, pretending not to notice.

Sometimes she wondered if she was making the right decision, letting Spike continue the charade. Sometimes she wondered if it really was a charade, or if the real trick was letting her believe that she wasn't being used for Darla and Angelus's purposes. But she hadn't done anything dangerous and, though it might have been foolish, she believed the sincerity in Spike's eyes. She _knew_ him.

He hurried toward her, and she was almost relieved by the phony grin on his face. He was putting on an act, and she could tell. _He couldn't hide himself from me, _she reassured herself. _Not anymore._

A hand clasped in hers, a filthy look down her body, and Buffy and Spike were reunited again, mere bars the only things standing between them.

* * *

"They _kissed_!" Gunn exploded, throwing his hands up. "Giles, you can't just let this go!"

Giles sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "I haven't. You recommended that Buffy end her fights with Spike, and I conceded. But it's been months now since they've last seen each other. I highly doubt that any residual attraction from their last encounter will pose much of a problem anymore." He leafed through his papers. "It was Buffy who requested a termination of their fighting relationship, yes?"

"Yes," Gunn muttered darkly.

"And it's Buffy who's asked to fight Spike again, so I'm inclined to reverse my earlier decision." He sighed again. "I understand your concern and commend it, but Buffy has far too much to gain from Spike in her position, and we can't afford to let an opportunity like this to slip through our fingers."

He returned to his paperwork, effectively ending the conversation, before he remembered that he had one last item of business to discuss with Gunn. "Charles? There is one other matter."

* * *

"H-hi." Tara shuffled her feet, staring at the ground blankly. This was a mistake. Coming back was a mistake, now more than ever.

Summer had been…hell, more so than usual. She'd returned to her house to discover that her mother had been minimizing the extent of her illness in their brief talks over the year, and while she wasn't quite on death's door yet, the doctors weren't giving her more than eighteen months.

She'd wanted to stay home with her mother, to be there for her in her time of need, but her mother had stood firm. She was a Maclay woman, the first to discover the folly of the Maclay curse, and she had far too much potential to waste it caring for a doomed parent, her mother had insisted. Tara had to go back to school.

And she had, and now she was staring at Willow as the other witch sat with Xander and Buffy, her eyes silent and cold, and she knew that it was all a terrible mistake. She _didn't_ belong here. She was better off at home, making herself useful, than learning magic in a school that was so dominated by rank, dark magic.

Magic like what surrounded Willow, charging the air around her and sparking dangerously to Tara's eyes, a thousand times worse than what she'd seen in Willow before she'd left. Buffy and Xander were smiling and chattering at her, oblivious to what was roiling under the surface, and she took an instinctive step backward, holding up a pure shield to block her from the blackness.

Willow shifted suddenly, a chilly smirk settling on her face, and flicked a finger. Tara's shield shattered instantly and she fell backward from the force of the dark magic, getting closer and closer and-

"Will? Tara?" Xander was looking from witch to witch, befuddled. "Is something wrong?"

"Everything's fine," Willow said, turning to exchange a significant look with a vaguely concerned Buffy. "Isn't that right?"

"F-f-fine," Tara repeated, backing away from the table. "Y-yeah." She hurried out of the room, tossing a worried glance back at Willow.

She needed to stop that. Willow wasn't hers, nor did she want to be hers. And now, she was too far gone even for Tara to help her. Tara had more important things to worry about, and it was time to forget Willow and focus on her own training, what her mother wanted for her. She owed her that much. No matter how difficult it would be.

* * *

"I want that one," Walsh informed Gunn, jabbing her finger at the Aurelian cages.

"Yeah?" For a second there, a look of sudden hope passed over his visage, but then it was gone, too quickly for Spike to call attention to it. He scowled. "You can't have him," Gunn said regretfully. "He's just been reapproved for training with-"

"Buffy Summers," Maggie finished, and Spike growled low in his throat at his girl's name. "Yes, I've been apprised of the situation." Gunn shot a suspicious glance at the black man standing behind Walsh, who Spike remembered as one of the trainer's old assistants. "Mr. Gates will be observing and recording their battles. I'm not interested in him right now."

"Then which one? It's taken months for Angelus to recover enough to fight our best again," Gunn pointed out through gritted teeth. Spike smirked at him, relaxing at the good news. Walsh wasn't taking him. He'd be fighting Buffy again, and _oh_, had he missed the feel of her body on his, the light in her eyes that always seemed so dim in the shadows of the basement. Buffy, he was certain, was the only reason he was still sane, now that Angelus's plan had failed and they had no further leads- well, not really, unless if you counted Buffy herself.

He closed his eyes for a moment, imagining waiting until Buffy's twentieth birthday when she left the school to make his move, breaking out with his family and parting from them to track down his girl. He'd find out where she was staying, crawl into her bed in the middle of the night, pepper her face with kisses until she woke, and then…

He shook himself out of his reverie. He was getting soft, and even more disturbing, he couldn't bring himself to care. Buffy had gotten into his system, and now she'd never leave, and suddenly he was wondering how she'd receive him if they had to kill a human to escape, if she'd hate him for it or worse, and he knew he wouldn't, _couldn't_ hurt anyone. Not if it would hurt Buffy to know that he'd killed for her. Not if it would make her look at him the same way as she had when he'd almost killed the slayer.

It was simple. If Buffy thought it was wrong, he couldn't do it.

Damn, but he was whipped.

"I'll take the seer," Walsh said aloud, and the shrill squeal from Dru at her pronouncement jerked Spike back to awareness.

"Done," Gunn said immediately, and Spike hurled himself against the side of his cage furiously, snarling at the black man as he lowered the barrier of Dru's cell.

"Stay the bloody fuck away from her!" he ordered, feeling waves of guilt overwhelm him as she sobbed. He'd been too caught up in Buffy and he'd forgotten his sire, poor and defenseless and needy. "Don't touch her!"

Walsh watched him dispassionately as Dru was forcibly pried from the bars of her cage, Gunn shocking Angelus to the floor as the older vampire charged to his get's defense. Dru screamed, scratching bloody marks down the side of her captor's face. "You shan't help me!" she cried out, dark eyes moving to seek out Spike's. "My prince has forgotten me for another!"

He reached for her, their fingers brushing before she was pulled in the opposite direction, far from him and his love and the dawning realization that she was, as always, utterly right about him.

* * *

"Faith."

She stared fixedly at her food. "Yeah?"

"Look at me." Gunn sounded tired and annoyed, and she finally glanced up at him wearily. His expression matched his tone. "You've been doing less than stellar work in your fighting, when you bother to show up. Your training is lacking, your skills are failing, and I may be forced to make you retake the exam that made you senior potential. Got it?"

"Yeah, whatever you want." She shrugged, wondering how much longer he'd be bothering her. She wanted to be alone. She was always alone, now that she'd become a vampire whore and her best friend was one, too. She didn't like people anymore, not when-  
_  
Angelus, fingers prodding at her clit/Buffy's eyes, shocked as she fell to the ground silently/Angelus's smile, warm and rich and inviting/Xander's lips on hers, healing, begging for more/Angelus's lips at her throat, but no, those weren't his lips/Ohgodohgodohgod-  
_  
"I want to get you back, Faith. I want the fighter back, one of the only students worth a damn in the whole grade," Gunn was saying. "So you'll be fighting after lunch, Giles-approved, and if you don't wow me, you're going back to junior potential-dom. Got it?"

"Uh huh." She hunched back over her meal, sifting through the rice to find the onions.

"Good. I'll see you in ten." He walked off and she frowned, remembering his words.  
_  
Junior potential. That's even worse than Cordy. _Cordelia was back in school with Jesse at her side and a slew of watchers to do her bidding, having finally moved out of the potentials' dorms and into the watchers' ones where she belonged. She was smug and domineering and more than glad to be the queen bee again.

She'd also been the last slayer their age left who wasn't a senior potential, and now even some of the younger girls had made it, Vi and Amanda and Renee and Satsu and Chao-Ahn already among the ranks of the senior slayers. If she were lower than _them_, she'd really be nothing.

There was a time when that thought alone would have shaken her enough to give the fight her all, but now, all she could think of was how _easy_ it would have been if she were still a junior potential prohibited from seeing vampires, from speaking to vampires, from-  
_  
Angelus's sneer, and the part of her that still wanted it, craved it, wept for its absence-  
_  
She got up, leaving her tray behind, and walked silently toward the cafeteria exit, passing the table where Buffy sat in the process and ignoring her call.

She couldn't, however, ignore the arm that suddenly yanked her backward, taking advantage of her sluggish reflexes to turn her around without being harmed.

"You." She blinked up at Xander, somehow unsurprised to see him. "What now?"

He pulled her silently from the room, his eyes dark and worried. "I need to talk to you."

"What else is new?" She snorted disgustedly. "This is getting pathetic, Harris. If you think-"

He kissed her tightly, his lips suddenly mashed against his and his hands pressed to her back, pulling her closer until there was nothing between her shaking body and his, and she thought about pulling away but couldn't, not when he was so close and it felt so _right_, like being with Xander might just be the only palatable thing when it came to kisses and romance and love- _stop it!_

She parted her lips and his tongue slid inside, massaging the roof of her mouth and mingling with hers in a rapid, heart-pounding motion that made her shudder and cling to him, her eyes popping open and pulling back to stare at him with frightened eyes. "Xander…" she breathed, and he kissed her again, his own eyes warm and caring, and nothing in the world could have kept her from him in that moment.

"I'm not-"

He cut her off, which came as a relief because she wasn't even sure what she was going to say, pressing his lips to her forehead. "You don't have to be," he murmured. "You don't have to be anything. You're Faith."

And somehow, that was enough, and for a moment she forgot Angelus and Buffy and the enduring pain of betrayal and damage and kissed him again, sliding her lips along the side of his mouth to his cheek and ear, nibbling at the lobe and sighing in satisfaction when he gasped and latched his lips onto the curve below her jaw, kissing lower and lower-

-And then his lips touched her neck and she shoved him away, breathing hard.

His eyes widened. "Oh, god, Faith, I'm so sorry. I forgot-" He made to move toward her, but she took a step back, holding up her hands.

"Don't touch me!" she hissed, taking a step back. "Just… don't. Stay away from me."

"Faith, wait. Faith!" She heard him calling her and stormed out of the corridor, moving rapidly toward the next one before he could catch up. Her hand moved to her neck, rubbing Angelus's mark absent-mindedly, and she shivered again at the thought of Xander so close to there.

She'd let him in, and now he'd hurt her. It was what she'd come to expect.

"I need to tell you something!" he called out, and she'd never been more grateful to reach the doors of the training room. She pushed them open, nodded to Gunn, and headed onto the game floor, far from Xander Harris's grasp.

She was safe from him, her escape complete at last, and she'd never been more relieved to start a fight in her life.

Until…

"Hello, lover," purred the vampire waiting for her, and with a dawning dread, she turned to eye her opponent. The color drained from her face and she stumbled backward, her heart pounding with terror. "Long time, no see," Angelus continued, amused. "Don't we have some unfinished business?"

Then he was upon her.


	47. Chapter 47

She froze.

Her mind was churning with terror and horror and a never-ending scream that seemed to drown out all else. Her eyes were wide and flicking from side to side, searching for a way out of this new hell. Her legs were quaking, her hands were clenching, her lips were quivering…but her feet were planted firmly on the ground, stubbornly refusing to move in the face of her tormentor. _Damn damn damn DAMN._

He reached out with one fist and sent her crashing across the game floor, and even then her feet were frozen, leaving her limp and afraid on the ground. He fought her like Spike fought Buffy, no damage intended and no injuries sustained, and the thought that he wanted her alive and well terrified her even more._ He's not done with me, is he?_

"What's wrong, Faithy?" Angelus taunted. "Gosh, and you seemed so…lively the last time I saw you."

She glared up at him voicelessly. Behind him, Xander and Buffy were sitting with Anya in the front row of the bleachers, but she couldn't focus on their faces, just light skin-colored blurs with darkness where their eyes were. Could they see her fear and pain? Could they save her?

"No one's going to save you this time," Angelus murmured, moving closer. "They put you in a cage with me, lover. They're going to watch you die, and you're going to call for help but no one _cares_ anymore. You're nothing important to anyone…" He paused, his eyes glinting with an almost maniacal interest. "…But me. You're mine, Faith, and that's never going to change."

A hand reached out to stroke her neck, run across the two raised scars there. "Don't you want to belong to me?" His voice was hypnotic and she lifted her head to gaze at him. She knew what being Angelus's entailed, and it struck her suddenly that the concept wasn't the anathema it should have been. "No one else will take you now. You're damaged goods, lover. These marks say it, and no one can make you forget it." She shivered under his touch, falling forward and sliding underneath him.

"Do you know what I want with you?" She nodded silently, her eyes glazing over as a hand moved to play at her breast almost tenderly. "Can you handle it?"

"I don't…I can't…" She moved her head from side to side jerkily.

"You're afraid," he said smoothly. "But there's a part of you that knows that it's the best you'll ever get. Because all you want is to belong, Faith, and I'm the only one who will take a nothing like you."

Tears blurred her eyes as she accepted his words for the truth they were.

"Do you know how quickly it can be?" Angelus breathed, inclining his head toward where Gunn watched them warily. Any other battle might have been forcibly ended by now. But mind games and quiet seduction were nothing new when it came to Angelus, she knew. "I could have you the moment I left the room. You'd knock out the watcher taking me back and I'd be within you in moments, taking you from this cruel world where you're nothing at all and making you a queen."

He glanced over at Gunn again, and it was then that she caught sight of a figure detaching herself from the audience and hurtling toward Gunn. She blinked once, trying to break out of the haze that surrounded her to make sense of it, and finally justified the image. _Buffy_.

"Buffy?" she whispered, but the other girl wasn't focused on her, too busy talking to Gunn.

"You can't let her fight him!" Buffy was arguing. "Look at that! If Spike and I ever-"

"Spike and you are different. This is Angelus's M.O." Gunn said calmly.

"But…but…" Buffy protested, wringing her hands and turning to look at Faith with worried eyes. "This is all wrong!"

Then Xander was there, a calming hand on Buffy's shoulder. "This is what she needs," he said gently, ignoring Gunn's quizzical look to turn to gaze directly at Faith. "Isn't that right?"

She stared at him for a moment, taking in her best friend and her…whatever Xander was, fighting for her safety in every way they could, and then she knew. "You're wrong," she whispered, turning back to Angelus, the slightest beginnings of triumph building within her. "I might be damaged, but there are people who care. About me, about what happens to me…" She breathed in slowly, her voice rising as she continued to speak. "I don't need you anymore. I don't think I ever needed you. I've got them…and you know what?" She glanced back to Buffy and Xander. Gunn was talking to them, ordering them back to the bleachers, but they'd instead taken places against the edge of the barrier and were watching with keen interest. Buffy still looked concerned, her eyes dark and fixed on Angelus with a wariness matched only by Faith's own. But Xander was watching with pride and something she'd never really seen before, ironic as it might be. _Faith._ He had faith in her, in her ability to get over this, and so much that she suddenly wasn't sure that she couldn't. "I've also got me."

Her unresponsive feet finally jerked back into action, springing upward to connect with Angelus's waist and send him careening backward. She climbed to her feet, noticing with satisfaction that he was still on the ground, and leapt on top of him with all her energy, landing knee-first on his chest. An audible crack sounded, a rib breaking beneath her, and she grinned with satisfaction, standing again.

Angelus writhing on the ground was something she'd never seen before, and it struck her as so uncharacteristic that something in her shattered and she began laughing, the choked giggles escaping her mouth at the pain in his face and the confusion at ending up in that position. Angelus's face darkened, hardly a frightening sight when she had the upper hand, and she laughed harder, tears streaming from her face at his predicament. "Laugh all you want now," he growled, stumbling back to his feet. "But I've only been playing."

Then he kneed her in the stomach with enough force to send her slamming against the barrier, so fast that her skin felt like it was being yanked from her face, and her hysterics died down as quickly as they'd come. "Yeah?" she said boldly. "Me, too." She launched herself at him again.

She wasn't a scrappy fighter like Buffy was, fists and feet everywhere all at once, but she knew a little bit about power and viciousness, and her long-polished skills came back to her as she finally lost herself in the fight again. One fist forward, feint as he moves to block, a kick in the shins and a quick head-butt- _whoa, dizzy_- and she was staggering back at him as he shook away the onslaught, hands already at the ready.

He swung at her and she used his weight against him, bending down and reaching to catch the punch and swing him over her shoulder with a move she hadn't used in nearly a year, since Angelus had first destroyed her. He fell with a grunt, and she saw him through a new lens, one she'd never really used before. He wasn't anything special, was he? A master, yes, and one who'd held her in his grasp for far too long, but once he was on the ground, once they were finally on equal ground, they were just vampire and slayer, and he was just another demon. Another kill she hadn't made yet, and she planned to rectify that right away.

"Cute," he drawled, rubbing the side of his battered-looking nose. "Play your cards right, and I might start thinking of you as a real potential."

She charged at him this time, and he ducked to the side, kicking out to pull her leg down and punching her in the gut at full force. She fell backward, hitting the ground with a crash and curling up into a ball, coughing up blood. Pain, the best kind of pain that came from a good fight, a pain she barely remembered anymore, overwhelmed her, and her head buzzed with adrenaline and the stark terror of a possibly fatal experience.

"You see?" Angelus demanded, looming over her. He gave her a sharp kick for good measure. "You? You're counting on yourself? Have you _seen_ you lately, sweetheart? You're just a pathetic-" His boot crashed into her face, sending her head reeling backward. "Little-" He planted a foot on the side of her breast, putting enough weight on it to make it feel as though he was tearing it from her body. "Nothing-" He kicked her again, this time with enough force to knock her out of her fetal position and splaying her out on the ground. "Lover!" he finished, and then his foot hurtled at her sex with enough force to make her scream from the blinding agony of it.

He bent down, brushing his lips against her ear. "This fight ends when I bite you," he murmured. "So I think I'll just snap your neck." A cool hand moved to enclose her chin, and with her last vestiges of strength, she caught his arm with her hand.

"Go suck on it," she said, and in one swift move, retrieved her stake and buried it in his heart.

He fell backward and Gunn was shouting, "Win! Faith wins!" and Buffy was running into the circle, stepping atop Angelus with savage satisfaction, and wrapping her arms around her, giddy with glee. The stake was deep, the blood spilling in a puddle on the floor, and Angelus was snarling up at them, but she was relieved to discover that it didn't really frighten her anymore, not now that she'd shoved a stake through his heart.

Buffy pulled away from her, her eyes alight with joy. "You did it!"

"Yep." She grinned, the feel of it a little less alien on her face. "I guess I did." Behind Buffy, she caught sight of Xander, still watching her with the same quiet pride. He gave a soft smile that she couldn't help but return before he turned to leave the room. "First slayer of the year to stake a vampire," she said musingly, smirking challengingly at Buffy.

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Oh, I bet I could if I_wanted_ to…" A special ops watcher stepped into the room, Spike in tow, and moved to yank a growling Angelus up from the ground.

"Oh, I'm pretty sure he wants to stake _you_," Faith pointed out, a dirty grin on her face as she nodded to Spike. Buffy turned to follow her gaze, her eyes lighting up at the sight of the other vampire, and Spike beamed back, his face openly elated at the sight of his slayer. For a moment, Faith _understood_ them, and she suspected suddenly that less of her fury with Buffy had come from hurt betrayal, and far more of it was from jealousy, because there was no doubt in her mind that Buffy and Spike had something real.

Angelus was heaved up, turning to send one last baleful glare her way. "In the end, you'll have nothing," he hissed. "How quickly do you think you'll lose precious little Buffy to us, too?"

"Oh, shut it, you old sod," Spike said dryly, tossing Faith a look of approval that made her flush and Buffy stiffen.

She squeezed Buffy's arm, resting her head against her friend's shoulder for a moment. "Go ahead, fight your vampire," she murmured, letting her go and turning to watch Angelus leave. With every stumbling step he took from the room, her heart grew lighter, her smile widened, and she sighed with simple satisfaction.

"You did a good job," observed a voice from behind her, and she spun around to face Gunn. "That one's mostly talk, and once you got past that, you seemed to get your groove back."

"Yeah." She shrugged nonchalantly. "So am I back in business?" She found suddenly that she didn't want to stop fighting anymore, not after she'd finally overcome the insurmountable. Defeating Angelus had reminded her of how she'd once been the best, and she wasn't going to give up on that title now that she was close to earning it back.

He just shook his head, eyes glinting with amusement, and turned his attention back to Buffy and Spike, who were keeping a careful distance from each other as they spoke. "You two. Stop flir- talking and get fighting."

"I don't know why they encourage that," Anya said, moving to stand next to her. "It's as if they want what happened last time to happen again."

Faith stiffened, sizing up the woman. She didn't look more than twenty-five at most- though she had to be older, if only by virtue of her relationship with Giles- was very pretty, had breasts nearly as large as Faith's own, and Xander really, really seemed to like her.

And there was the damper on the evening.

"Nothing happened," she said finally. "Xander…we got out."

"Oh, I wasn't talking about you," Anya said pleasantly. "Though you did quite well today. I thought you'd just shut yourself in your room for another six months, but it was good that Xander insisted."

She frowned, confused. "Insisted on what?" Then she understood, it hitting her so clearly that she didn't know why she hadn't realized it before. "Wait. Xander did this? All of this?" She waved vaguely at the game floor, scraping some dried blood off her arm with her other hand. "He brought Angelus here?"

"He thought you needed some closure. He asked me to persuade Rupert to take care of it," Anya informed her. "Though I'm going to have to stop doing favors for students. Rupert knows that it wasn't my idea, and he's asked me to stop."

"Oh…" She ignored Anya, her eyes fixed on the game floor instead. "So all those meetings with you…for me?"

"Of course not!" Anya sounded offended. "Xander and I are friends! We don't need some angst-ridden teenager to bring us together."

"Together? Together how?" she demanded, narrowing her eyes suspiciously.

Anya shook her head, amused. "You're jealous!"

"No, I'm not!" she protested automatically. "I don't care if…" Her voice trailed off. "I _don't_," she repeated feebly.

"Clearly," Anya said tartly. "Because the boy's done everything in his power to help you heal, and you're standing here watching the Spike and Buffy Sexual Olympics instead of giving each other much-needed orgasms. He must mean nothing to you."

"He doesn't…" She bit her lip.

Anya smiled patronizingly at her. "What are you waiting for? Go get him."

She took off, disregarding the pain that erupted in her sides as she broke into a run and headed up the closest staircase two steps at a time, racing for their floor of the school. Xander was standing at his door, turning the knob, a smile still on his face. "Wait!"

He turned to look at her, his brow creasing with some trepidation. "What is it, Faith?"

And she didn't know what to say, so she pulled him to her by the front of his shirt and let her lips on his take care of it.


	48. Chapter 48

Something happens at the end of this chapter, something lots of people might not like. I just wanted to assure you all that it's been planned since the beginning of the fic and it leads toward our endgame, so no worries! Hopefully, it won't be unbearable for however long it might take.

* * *

"So you ditched the wannabe?" Amy asked, squinting speculatively at the roiling potion Willow was mixing. It was their first group project of the year for their new specialty magic class, and Willow had stunned the whole class when she'd asked Amy to work with her. Willow had stayed with Tara for most of last year, even after their falling out, but she couldn't anymore, not now that she'd finally crossed the uncrossable line in their magical impasse.

That didn't mean that she liked Amy much. "What are you talking about?"

Amy shrugged carelessly. "Come on, you don't think I haven't noticed! Tara MacLoser's been following you around for the past year and a half like she was your personal bodyguard, and now you've finally seen the light and gotten rid of her." She nudged Willow teasingly. "Can't say I blame you. You're too good for her."

It was what she'd been telling herself all year, but now, hearing it from someone else's mouth, it sounded ugly and petty. She glanced over at Tara, who was working with Michael only a few feet away, her face flushed and head bowed in silent humiliation, and Willow felt a pang. "If anything, she's too good for me," she snapped, suddenly frustrated with the situation.

Tara's head jerked up and she stared at Willow with bewilderment. Willow looked away. "We just...we don't use the same kind of magic, that's all. We don't work well together."

Amy snorted disbelievingly. "Oh-kay, Willow. Whatever you say." And she dropped the topic easily, turning her attention back to their work.

But when Willow sneaked a glance over at Tara later, the other girl was still watching her, the embarrassment gone and replaced with thoughtfulness and the barest hint of worry.

As soon as class was over, Tara cornered her in the hall. "C-Can we talk?"

Willow moved past her determinedly, unwilling to talk things over with Tara. She hated the way the other witch would look at her, that mingled disappointment and longing that spoke volumes about how she felt and what she wanted. They'd both been cursed with faces far too expressive to hide their true feelings, and for Willow, it was a burden to see what was written so clearly across Tara's face.

"Willow, p-please." It was the please that shook her from her determination to get away. Tara sounded broken, and it shook Willow more than she'd ever admit.

She stopped. "Make it quick, okay?" she said wearily, leaning against the wall beside Tara.

Tara was silent for a moment. "Will..." She was quiet again, her expression tortured. "I know I made you uncomfortable. Telling you...you know."

"Damn right you did," Willow muttered. Aloud, she said, "What did you expect it would do?"

"I don't know!" She lowered her voice an octave, flushing at the curious glances of passing students. "It just...seemed like the right thing to do at the time." Her tongue swiped her lips nervously, and Willow was drawn to the sight of it, to the memory of lips on lips and desperation borne with a kiss...

_Dangerous thoughts._ She brushed them away and focused on Tara, who was speaking again. "Obviously, I was wrong," she said ruefully. Her eyes turned back to Willow's. "But Will...please, I don't want this to go on anymore. The avoiding, the anger..." She blinked rapidly, and Willow noticed with regret that her eyes were tearing up. "I can't."

"Because you _want_ me."

"No!" Tara shook her head vigorously. "Not because of that! Because I... God, Willow, we used to be friends!" Tears were slipping out unbidden, and Willow moved closer, her own eyes aching at the sight of her once best friend in such agony. "And I can't watch this anymore, see what Ethan and the magic are doing to you, and you're just _taking_ it, and if I've sent you to this horrible place because you hate me so much that you won't even accept white magic anymore, then I'll never forgive myself!" Her tears were flowing freely now, and Willow was crying, too, drawing Tara closer as they sank down together in the middle of the floor, uncaring of the other students gaping at them as spectators in a circus.

They parted slowly, gazing at each other searchingly, and Willow almost swept Tara into her arms right then and kissed her breathless. _God, what is she doing to me?_ she wondered helplessly, inhaling the scent of lavender in Tara's hair. _What am I?_

She didn't know anymore, and she took to Tara's love like a moth to a flame, sighing at the inherent _goodness_ of it. And when they finally drew apart, she couldn't help but feel that she'd found something that had been stolen away from her a long time before.

"I'm sorry," Tara was muttering, shamefaced. "I shouldn't have-"

"No!" She laughed nervously. "No, I get it, I do. It's fine." She stood. "I'll...uh... I'll see you around?"

"Sure." Tara smiled sweetly, and Willow's heart sang. She didn't know what she was anymore, what she was doing, but she did know that she wanted Tara to be happy, and that was enough right now without having to explore her inner motives. Just one friend taking care of another. It didn't have to be anything more than that.

So she stood against the wall, grinning like a fool as she watched Tara depart. Amy was still standing at the end of the hall, having watched the whole scene, and when she took a challenging step forward toward Tara, Willow stuck a hand out and sent her toppling to the ground, laughing quietly when Tara shrugged and walked on.

It took her the rest of the afternoon to figure out what about her encounter with Tara had made her so happy, but she finally narrowed it down when she was sitting with Buffy at dinner. _She still wants to save me. After everything, she hasn't given up on me._ She smiled to herself, shooting what must have been the fifteenth glance that night across the room at Tara.

And maybe she didn't need or want it, but it was Tara, and she cared, and that was enough to keep up her spirits.

_And what if she realizes that you're not worth it?_ asked a nasty little voice within her that sounded remarkably like Ethan. _That you're unsalvageable? Or, to be more precise, that you don't want to be saved?_

_Shut up,_ she told herself irritably, her good mood gone as quickly as it had come. _That's not going to happen._ She pushed the conflicting thoughts from her mind, taking a deep breath.

She needed clarity, to figure out Tara and Amy and Ethan, to put things into perspective in a way she was only able to do when it was only the magic and her, no other distractions.

She needed Rack.

* * *

"So what happened?" Buffy's eyes were following Faith's around the room with an almost hungry curiosity, and Faith preened at the realization that perfect Buffy was living vicariously through her. _Her_. But then, Buffy had never been interested in any of the other students at the Academy; her attentions were solely focused on Spike, and she wasn't likely to get much of a relationship from him. Not the usual hearts-and-flowers way, anyway, and Faith was as close as it got right now.

Faith shrugged nonchalantly. "Nothing really."

_"Faith…"_

She laughed. "I don't know, there was just this kind of awkward silence, and then he asked me if I wanted to go out with him that night."

"And?" Buffy's eyes narrowed with unconcealed interest.

Faith shrugged. "And I said that I had to get to the hospital because I was a mess."

Buffy glared at her expectantly.

"And that once I finished there, I'd go out with him," Faith admitted. "Tonight, actually."

"Yes!" Buffy jumped off her bed, grabbing a bemused Faith and pulling her to the closet. "I knew it! This is _perfect_." She pushed aside the long row of uniforms hanging in front of her, peering at the end where Faith's non-regulation clothing hung. "Okay, no leather. You'll scare him off, but nothing too bright and perky either, because that's just not you-"

"No, it isn't," Faith interrupted, giving the offending garment a pointed look until Buffy rolled her eyes and moved it onto her side of the closet. "I thought I'd just wear my uniform. It's simple, it's hot, it's-"

"Two sizes too small," Buffy finished, pulling a two-piece scarlet uniform off its hanger. "How about this one?" She grinned slyly. "I happen to know that it's probably easiest if he wants to slip his hand up your top."

"Gee, I wonder how you know that," Faith retorted, but it was good-naturedly. She was really going to try to be good about Spike for now, especially since she knew from the other end that faced with her friend's disapproval, Buffy was more likely to secretly keep up her visits to Spike than discontinue them. "Don't even pretend that you and Spike haven't gotten that far yet. The whole student body knows that's a lie."

Buffy's brow creased worriedly. "Does everyone really know?"

"Nah." She clapped her friend on the shoulder reassuringly. "Just a few of us who actually watch. And you have Gunn convinced that Spike only kissed you out of some weird vampire frustration thingie, so you're good."

"I hope so," Buffy said darkly, moving to pull down the zipper on the uniform Faith was wearing. Feeling particularly daring, Faith arched against Buffy's hand, smirking at her friend's feigned horror. "Faith, you're going to scandalize poor Xander!" Buffy informed her with great mock concern.

Faith smirked fondly, turning to wrap her arms around her friend and press her lips to her cheek.

"Oh!" The surprised exclamation came from the doorway, and they pulled away to turn startled gazes to Tara. The witch flushed. "S-Sorry. The door was open..."

"It's fine," Buffy said reassuringly, batting away Faith's roving hands. "What's up?"

Tara looked down. "I need to talk to you."

* * *

Faith walked silently behind Xander, her hands twitching and irritable in the face of the awkwardness that had built between them. Neither of them was speaking, and she was troubled to realize that it was bothering her to the point of near-tears.

Things had gone well at first. He'd picked her up, managed a polite comment about her outfit in between the ogling- and that was exactly the reaction she'd been going for- and then he'd taken her to dinner and everything had fallen apart.

"This place looks kinda pricey," she'd noted immediately. "You can't be using Academy money." They each received a paltry sum of money each month as allowance, and there was no way that Xander could afford a restaurant like that one with that little money. "You got a rich dad?" she had asked curiously. Xander had never struck her as the spoiled kind, but she didn't know much about his family life. Slayers rarely discussed their lives back home, and she'd never really thought about the watchers' beyond the fact that they actually had them. For all she knew, Xander was as wealthy as Cordelia and lived the life of the privileged in scenic Sunnydale.

He'd shuffled uncomfortably, and in hindsight, she probably should have stopped there, but a nasty little part of her was enjoying his discomfort. She had been in pieces around him so many times lately, and it seemed only fair to even the odds and put him in the vulnerable situation. "Family who's just glad to have someone else do the babysitting?" she had pressed on, nodding knowingly. Her own mother had barely realized that she was leaving, and when she'd finally understood, she'd been all too glad to pass over the responsibility of watching Faith to someone, anyone else.

He'd shot her a pained look. "Faith, can we not discuss my parents?"

"Fine," she'd said agreeably. "So did you raid Giles's office?" That was what she'd done last year when Angelus had told her to bring him alcohol. She had winced at the memory of the drunken vampire and the ensuing antics, but moved on immediately, breaking free from thoughts that would have incapacitated her not too long ago with newfound ease. "He has cash stowed away in his second drawer, and he's always forgetting to lock it. It drives Anya nuts."

Xander had shaken his head. "No, I didn't steal it. I've been saving up for a while."

"Saving up?" she repeated, frowning. "Wait, if you need the money for something else, I'm good for a burger." She waved her hand. "I've got cheap tastes."

He'd ducked his head shyly. "No, I've been saving up for _this_." He'd given her a smile, but she was scowling, his words and the meaning behind them sinking in.

"Wait a minute." She had held up a hand. "Is that what this is? The end of some crazy plot you've been working on for the past few months, trying to win me over?" she'd demanded incredulously. "Poor, damaged Faith- she must be easy! I'll just pamper her and woo her and eventually get the full Angelus treatment? Yeah? Is that what you wanted? Because-"

People were beginning to stare, and Xander had grabbed her hand. "Faith, that's not-"

Slow, burning rage had been rising within her, resentment and betrayal and the fear that, once again, she wasn't good enough, and it was building into an inferno. "You know what? This was a mistake. Save your money for your next conquest. I'm going home."

"Faith." She'd stalked out the door of the restaurant, shoving past an offended-looking maître d'. "Faith!" She ignored him, tugging down the skirt she'd rolled up to reach mid-thigh length. The night was still young, but right then she'd wanted to go back home, to drown her disappointment in a self-training room and forget this disaster.

But Xander wasn't done, and he'd grabbed her by the arm and swung her against the side of the restaurant, his eyes now dark with frustration. "Faith," he had said again through gritted teeth, "I've been saving up and hoping you'd go out with me, nothing else. Not everyone in your life is out to get you, and if you'd just step back and realize that, you'd be a hell of a lot happier." He'd turned to leave and then thought better of it, smashing his hands against the wall on either side of her. She flinched, her eyes widening at the uncharacteristic anger. "And there's no one else in school I'd want to date other than you, okay? No one," he'd finished, then whirled around and stalked off in the general direction of the school.

She'd trailed after him, at a loss, and now they were trapped in this terrible situation, Xander's hands deep in his pockets and his shoulders slumped, Faith's eyes stinging just a little and her heart pounding with the certainty that she'd ruined something great.

And she had, hadn't she? She'd finally crossed one too many lines, found Xander's limit, and now he was pissed. And she'd ticked him off in the past, but she'd never _broken_ him before, not to the point that he wasn't going to push her; not even when she wanted it, which was more often than she'd rather admit. And if she wanted it, she was going to have to stop playing hot and cold with him.

She swallowed, her next words catching in her throat. "I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He blinked. "What?"

"I'm sorry," she repeated, staring fixedly at the ground. "I shouldn't have...I overreacted."

"You think?" Xander muttered with bitter sarcasm, but then he bit his lip and looked up, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. "Sorry. My mouth keeps doing this thing where it vomits words that shouldn't be said."

She cracked a tentative smile. "I'm pretty sure it's contagious."

"We should be quarantined, the both of us," Xander grinned, and she could see him visibly relax. "All shut up, away from people..."

"Maybe somewhere with burgers?" she said hopefully, looking up at him through long lashes. "I know this didn't start out well, but maybe we can try again? And I'm pretty sure the waiters at that place will never let us back in."

Xander's eyes sparkled with amusement. "We can get Will to do a spell, change our appearances, dye our hair a different color, lengthen our noses..." He patted her own nose playfully.

She smirked up at him. "By the end of that, we'd probably be too ugly to be allowed into a restaurant like that."

He regarded her with suddenly serious eyes. "You could never be less than beautiful," he murmured, bending to kiss her gently on the lips.

She drank it in, her lips curving into a smile when he pulled away. "I'm good with burgers," she assured him. Suddenly bold, she added, "Save the cash for our next date."

He grinned widely. "Count on it."

His arm snaked around her waist as they walked toward the less upscale area of town, and she found that she didn't mind one bit.

* * *

Oh, yes, this was clarity, and Willow had oodles and oodles of it, wisdom that she'd always had and never been able to decipher when she didn't get Rack's boost. She understood now, knew the darkness and magic that surrounded everything and everyone, seeing lust and hatred and greed and all the vices that they all tried to conceal.

And she felt free, untamed, unfettered by the restrictions of society. Rules were for normal people, people without the power that sang through her body. She would take what she wanted and go where she wanted, and no one would stop her because who could stop her?

She saw it all, saw what she wanted just down the hall, saw the lust in the other girl's eyes as she shoved her tongue down her throat and her hand down her skirt, the moans and pants only spurring her on. The other girl asked something quizzically, but Willow didn't hear, too caught up in the freedom of letting her inhibitions go to care about the other girl.

They delighted in explorations of each others' bodies, but Willow was unconcerned with her lover's pleasure, the haze of dark magic around her increasing each time the other girl's tongue swept within her and her hand rubbed Willow's clit until magic and sex and pleasure and lust were all overwhelming her, pushing her over an edge that finally sent her into blissful unconsciousness.

And when morning came and Willow came back to herself with dawning horror, wrapped around a naked female body and the memories of the way she'd acted settling in her mind, she couldn't help but be relieved that the first person she'd seen the night before had been Kennedy and not Tara.


	49. Chapter 49

Credit for a line here goes to one of those motivational posters that's been flitting around the Internet since the dawn of time. *g* Oh, and this site is finally caught up with the other ones, so we'll be back to 2-3 chapters a week until the fic is finished. Enjoy! Please let me know what you think!

* * *

"Oh, no." She sat up, pulling a sheet around herself protectively. "No, this isn't happening."

"Relax, Willow. It was just some fun." Kennedy shrugged, comfortable in her nakedness. "I always thought you were a little butch. But _whoa_, last night?" She grinned. "I've never done anything that intense before."

"No," she repeated frantically. "I'm not- I_can't_ be!" That had been her first non-magical time, the closest she'd ever gotten to losing her virginity, and it had been with a _girl_?

_And worse, a girl who isn't Tara_. She closed her eyes, choking back tears. "This was all a mistake. I can't-"

"Sure you can." Kennedy propped herself up on her side. "Look, I don't have much of an assortment of girls here. I mean, yeah, most slayers are all about female power, and when is witchy magic not a metaphor for gay sex? But then they're done and moving on to the boys, and I'm left out in the cold." She shrugged. "What can you do? I like my girls, so I stick around and hope that eventually, someone else might, too."

Willow stared at her. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that you're not the first one to take your sexuality out for a test drive." Kennedy stretched languorously. Unbidden, Willow's eyes ran over the curves of her body as she shifted, her gaze roving over supple breasts and hard, muscular lines. Kennedy had always taken her training very seriously, and it had paid off with the slayer's perfectly developed physique. Which Willow appreciated very much, even though- _No._

"I'm not gay," she said firmly. "And if Tara-"

"Of course," Kennedy said knowingly. "It's all about Tara, isn't it? And imagine how hurt she'll be if you're not as into girls as you thought you were." She sat up, leaning against the wall of her bedroom, and Willow noticed with relief that Rona was absent from the other bed in the room. She hadn't had the presence of mind the night before to check, but now that she thought about it, Kennedy probably had her happy-time signals with Rona, especially if she had sex as often as she implied.

She frowned, turning back to Kennedy as sudden insecurities hit her. She wasn't experienced in sex- lesbian or otherwise. She barely even remembered what she'd done last night. Why would Kennedy bother with her? "And what about you? What do you get out of this?"

A shadow crossed Kennedy's face, but she brushed it off almost immediately, the careless smirk back in place moments later. "Like I said, there's not much of a selection. It gets lonely. And you're cute, and kinda sweet, and you did some pretty wacky things last night. Even if it's just messing around for a little while, I wouldn't say no."

"You _like_ me?" she asked dubiously.

Kennedy bent forward to plant a kiss on her lips, and Willow leaned into it automatically, her lips parting to let Kennedy in. Nothing compared to Tara, but she did have a tongue ring that kept things...interesting. "Hey, you're a hottie, Willow. All the lesbians want you."

She giggled despite herself, letting her hands rove over Kennedy's body again. A part of her recoiled, repulsed at the alien feel of another woman, but she forced it aside, focusing instead on how soft the skin beneath her fingers was, how every stroke in an erogenous zone made Kennedy whimper and take in a sharp breath. It felt so simple to be like this, open with desires she'd previously avoided and rejected out of fear of what was unknown, what she'd always considered as taboo. And Kennedy might not have been her first choice, but she was _there_, no extraneous emotions getting in the way.

Tara deserved more than some fling, and right now, Willow wasn't sure that this could be anything more. The night with Kennedy had been fantastic in ways she couldn't begin to describe, but as the other girl had warned her, her experimentation here could be just that- experimentation. If she woke up the next morning and realized that magic alone had brought her to women, that she couldn't- wouldn't- go through with a relationship with Tara, it would break the fragile girl. She'd spent long enough thinking only of herself when it came to Tara, and now it was time to do something selfless, to put her friend's needs ahead of her wants.

Even so, she avoided the other witch's gaze when she entered the dining room for breakfast a strategic few seconds after Kennedy arrived. She flushed when the latter potential gave her a sly glance, looking away swiftly and trying not too think too hard about their last encounter. They'd ducked into a dark classroom halfway down the hall for one last furious groping session on the way to the meal.

Willow had pulled away from Kennedy mid-kiss. "I loved Oz."

Kennedy hadn't been impressed. "Yeah, so?"

"So clearly I like guys!" In direct contrast to her words, she was tracing the curves of Kennedy's body, lazily squeezing a breast as they spoke. "I mean, I used to want to do stuff with him all the time. And practically from when I was born until I met Oz, I wanted Xander. In a sexy way," she finished defiantly.

Kennedy shrugged. "I never said you didn't like guys. That doesn't mean that you don't also like girls." A finger slipped between her folds, and she let out a strangled groan.

"Maybe." Willow bit her lip, then reconsidered and bit Kennedy's instead. "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"Positive." Kennedy smirked against Willow's lips. "Believe me, I'm getting just as much from this as you are."

Willow had shrugged, willing to accept it for now, and emerged moments later in front of a very amused Faith- and wasn't it lucky that it had been Faith, who was always so surly and unfriendly that she probably didn't even gossip- and after, Willow had warned Kennedy that she didn't need their dalliance to be public news. Kennedy was agreeable, to Willow's mingled relief and vague pity, because what kind of girl was so okay with the idea of being used?

"Will?" Buffy's voice jerked her from her thoughts, and she glanced up with irritation at her only companion. Xander was conspicuously absent this morning. No, he was sitting at a nearby table with Faith, of all people, laughing at something she'd said with a shine in his eyes that Willow had never seen before. She frowned, scowling over at the two of them until Buffy finally waved an impatient hand in front of her eyes. "Can we talk?"

She blinked at Buffy. "What is it?"

Buffy shrugged uncomfortably. "It's probably none of my business, but..." Her voice trailed off, and Willow froze. No. She couldn't know, not so soon, not when Willow herself wasn't sure what she was doing! "This magic thing," Buffy continued. Willow exhaled with a rush of air, her shoulders slumping with relief. "Are you sure it's safe? You _were_ kind of wiggy that time during the summer, and I'm sure if Ethan knew, even he wouldn't be okay with it."

Willow shrugged noncommittally. Oh, yes. There was that other topic she didn't want to discuss… "I'm on top of it. It's no big."

"If you say so." Buffy still looked dubious, but she fell silent, just as Willow had known that she would. Buffy was nothing if not a good friend, one who knew better than to pressure her into a conversation she didn't want to have, and Willow was suddenly very glad that Xander wasn't around to push the topic.

As it were, Gunn came in right then, anyway, and she was safe from her friend's scrutinizing gaze as soon as he beckoned her away.

* * *

"Today's an important fight for you," Gunn told her as they entered the training room together. He'd pulled her from breakfast, given her a pass to skip her morning classes, and led her to the game floor, four hours before she'd ever set foot in there in the morning. "You've been practicing against beasts, the kind of guys you'd never want to meet in a dark alley. And that's how you see vampires."

Buffy raised an eyebrow. "Is this scripted? Cause really, I see Spike in a dark alley, I'm not going to run." Gunn's brow furrowed, and she added hastily, "I'd stake him, of course. I'm all with the stakeage and the beating up the evil vampire and...yeah." She swallowed noisily, arranging her expression into something appropriately slayer-like.

Gunn shook his head ruefully, the barest hint of displeasure in his expression at her reference to Spike. God, she missed the old days, back when Gunn actually trusted her and Spike and found them charmingly adorable instead of some sort of national threat. _Of course, that was also before Spike and I were at the stage where Gunn _should_ be worried. And I wouldn't trade that for the world._ "Trust me, Buffy, this might be a little tougher than Spike."

They reached the double doors and Gunn pushed them open with a flourish, looking to her sharply in an attempt to gauge her immediate reaction. "Here's today's battle," he announced, gesturing toward the middle of the room.

Buffy blinked. "...Oh."

The game floor was set up, same as always, but now, sitting in its center was four-year-old Robin Wood, sucking on a lollipop and staring at her with round, dark eyes. "Hi," he said solemnly.

She was pretty sure that was the most she'd ever heard him say. "Um…hi," she responded, gazing down at him with suddenly uncertain eyes.

"He's a vampire," Gunn said quietly. "Don't forget that."

"Yeah." She circled him warily, sighing when all he did was take his lollipop out of his mouth and crane his neck to follow her path. "What am I supposed to do?"

"Your job."

"But he's so little! What's he going to do, bite my ankle?" But then, Robin spent most of his free time watching Angel and Darla go at it like bunnies. There was no way he was still innocent after seeing _that_. And more significantly, he was a soulless child. Children were all about instant gratification to begin with, and vampires were focused solely on getting what they wanted at any cost. The two combined had the potential to create a vicious, dangerous creature with no morals or limits.

But sitting peacefully in the middle of the floor, he looked less like a murderer and far more like a child waiting for his mother to come pick him up from preschool. And yet, his mother wasn't coming, was she? She was dead, killed by the man who was now essentially his brother, Drusilla's other get.

Buffy studied Robin with a measure of uncertainty. In a strange way, they weren't so different. They had been the same age when Spike had come for Nikki Wood. Two four-year-old children, encountering their first vampires...and Robin had fallen, and so had she, but in a very different way. Had he lived, would he have been enrolled in the Academy, training to be a watcher? Would he hate Spike the way she couldn't?

She felt sick, contemplating the possibilities. What if Spike and Dru had found her and her father that night? Hank would be dead, Buffy the child vampire used to teach potentials the meaning of evil. Never to reach adulthood, never to use even the gifts given to vampires, trapped in a nightmarish existence where nothing ever changed...

"Buffy." Gunn looked tired, and she could see the doubt in his eyes. And she shared it, because shoving a plastic stake into a child just seemed inhumane, and there were some tests even Buffy wouldn't pass. "He's still a vampire."

"I know." Slowly, awkwardly, she knelt next to Robin. He met her gaze calmly, setting down the lollipop, and she knew he understood.

"Thank you," he said, and she caressed the side of his face tenderly, moving gentle fingers in a circular motion along the side of his cheek as she fumbled at her pants with her other hand. She'd been keeping a little lighter in her ankle pocket since the first time Angelus had threatened her, and now she reached for it, flicked it on, and set Robin on fire before anyone could stop her.

Gunn was shouting to take down the barrier, yelling furiously at her, slamming himself against the side of the barrier, but everything was dulled to her ears except the crackling of the flames; and the quiet whisper of dust as it fluttered down to the ground around her.

* * *

"It was the right thing," Spike said softly, brushing her hair back from where it had been matted against her temples. A part of him wept at the loss of family, the bonds between Robin and him made strong by their shared sire, but he shoved it aside for the time being. Right now, Buffy needed someone to sit with her and tell her she was fine, and Spike'd be damned if he'd choose to mourn Robin instead of comforting Buffy. "If there was ever a vampire who should have been staked, it was the little one. You did good."

She sniffled. "It doesn't feel like it. I'm on probation, not allowed to fight for two weeks and grounded to the school. Giles was so angry...but at the same time, he _knew_ it was best. He knew that keeping Robin was wrong."

"He answers to someone else," Spike reminded her. "Higher-ups. Bastards," he added bitterly. "But bastards with money."

She stared at him tearfully. "It's not easy for you, either, is it? Locked in here, caged up and waiting to be staked like an animal waiting for its slaughter..." She closed her eyes. "I've thought it was right for a while now. Because...because there were vampires like _him_." She glared at Angelus, who'd been mercifully silent since they'd gotten the news about Robin. Spike understood. When you spent too long in the Academy, you started to think you were safe. That you were invincible. Vampire casualties tended to came as an unpleasant surprise, one magnified tenfold when it happened to family.

But this was no time to worry about Angelus, not when Buffy was letting out tiny, breathy sobs beside him. "But now..." Her lip quivered. "Spike, if I ever let you out, would you still...would you hurt people?"

"Buffy!" He looked at her askance. They'd agreed long ago that they'd never even consider his escape. He'd been relieved that she didn't trust him, that she'd never fall to the fate her friend had been flirting dangerously close to earlier that year. Part of what attracted him to her was the strength of her convictions, and it frightened him to see her so close to her limit.

But then her little hand, far from dainty and worn with the calluses of a thousand battles, closed over his. "Would you?"

And he sensed that the answer was of the utmost important to her, so he admitted honestly, "Not as long as you're around, pet. But you can't set me free," he murmured, cognizant of Darla's eyes burning a hole in his back. "Not ever. I told you, I'd rather be dead than..." He fell silent before he could reveal too much, but he knew from the way her face shone that she understood.

Her eyes had begun to dry, but now they watered up again and she drew his face between the bars and kissed him, noses bumping awkwardly and lips mere whispers against each other. "Thank you," she murmured, and nothing he could have said would have been enough right then, so he remained quiet instead.

* * *

"I hear one of your students killed a vampire today," Maggie Walsh noted, taking a seat opposite him in the staff dining room.

"That's correct." Giles schooled his features carefully. There was no need for Maggie to know how much he'd been shaken by the events earlier that day. Buffy was one of- if not _the_ - most promising student in the school right now, and while Gunn was vexed with her apparent romantic entanglement with Spike, Giles had been far more concerned with the empathy she was displaying with the vampires. Now she'd proven him correct, killing her first vampire not out of desperation but mercy, freeing a child from a fate far worse than death.

And while the Council puppet within him shuddered, the watcher who had devoted his life to clean, healthy slaying applauded Buffy her humanitarianism. No one begrudged her her actions, though she was required by school regulations to serve a brief punishment. And while Buffy had acted unpredictably, it was nothing new when it came to that particular test. In the past, eight in twelve slayers allowed Robin to get to their throats, two in twelve fell to the safety of inaction, and only one in twelve- and often the most worrying of the potential slayers- actually staked the child. Buffy had proven to be in that last, elusive twelfth that reacted unexpectedly, and Giles couldn't help but feel a measure of pride in one of his favorite potentials for finding the way to circumvent the system.

"It must be a nightmare for you," Maggie said patiently. "Travers will be displeased. He's always extolled the genius of the child exam as the greatest measurement of slayer temperament, and it'll be difficult to find a replacement for the child vampire."

"Actually, there's one in Sunnydale right now," Giles said tightly. "Another Aurelian, in fact." He'd already contacted Narra's watcher, Gwen Post, earlier that day. It had been the necessary thing to do as Academy principal and she'd been more than willing to oblige, but Giles couldn't help but silently hope that Narra herself would afford the new vampire the same mercy that Buffy had and stake him before he could be sent to England.

"Wonderful." Maggie's expression didn't change a fraction as she smoothly moved on to the true purpose of the conversation. "I'd like to request more supplies from you."

"Of course you would," Giles said tiredly. Maggie rarely came aboveground when she_didn't_ need something, a fact he rather appreciated. "What now?" He was still less than thrilled with the Initiative's presence in his school. Three of the older students had already complained about their favorites' absence from the game floor, and Giles was impotent and irate at how many vampires were dusting from the Initiative's experiments. And yet, there was little he could do but cede to Maggie's requests while she had Travers in her pocket and the American government unofficially backing her.

"We need more soldiers familiar with the workings of the Academy," Maggie informed him. "I'd like another two of Mr. Gunn's assistants."

Giles's eyes hardened. "Absolutely not. You've already taken three of his most experienced, and Gunn's had a shortage of workers since. We've only barely managed to replenish this year. You'll have to make do with what you have."

"That's not an option," Maggie said coldly. "And I'm sure Travers would agree."

Giles shook his head. "Travers's priority is and always will be the training of slayers. Scientific experimentation is simply an unfortunate side effect of our alliance with your people."

"Scientific experimentation is the slaying of the future," Maggie retorted. "We're designing machinery, viruses, a thousand ways to deal with hostile subterrestrials without sending_children_ to their deaths. Travers recognizes the need for a less old-fashioned approach to ridding the world of enemies to humanity." She paused, her eyes glinting dangerously. "Even the so-called harmless demons roaming the school because the principal can't control his libido."

Giles stiffened. "What are you trying to accomplish here?"

Maggie raised a mug to her lips. "I'm blackmailing you, of course. I'm sorry, was that too difficult for you to understand?"

"No." Giles stood, his features tense and drawn. "Not at all."

He'd put up with the mistreatment of Academy vampires, of the invasion of Academy space and the confiscation of Academy resources. But Maggie had crossed a line in attacking Anya and his personal life, and while he could do little but cede helplessly to her requests right now, he was determined to put an end to the situation.

Something had to change.


	50. Chapter 50

"It's strange," Webs said, leaning against the side of the cage with a quiet weariness. "He was useless, inconsequential really, but the cell feels empty without him."

Spike nodded knowingly. "We vampires, we're not meant to be solitary creatures." He turned to look pointedly at Angelus and Darla, engaged in their typically lewd activities. "We need each other for food, for sex, for company...s'why we have the power to create more of our kind."

"And when we don't have that, we turn to humans- or at least, some of us do," Webs noted. There was no judgment in his voice, not if you weren't looking for it. But of course, Spike was looking.

Spike sighed. "This is about Buffy."

"Isn't it always?" Webs raised an eyebrow. "Darla still isn't convinced that your little speech last night was part of her grand plan."

Spike glanced at Darla warily. She was lost, eyes closed and head thrown back in ecstasy as Angelus administered to her. "And you aren't, either?"

Webs shrugged, mock-modest. "I'm a student of human nature. It's my job to figure out your motivations."

"And what have you sussed out?"

"You're obsessed. Enthralled. Fixated. And you're the kind of guy who won't give up on it, no matter how unrealistic your desire." Webs shrugged. "You're the lion who'd lie with the lamb." He smirked. "Though knowing our Buffy, she'd probably insist that _she_ was the lion."

Something about Webs's comments rankled at him. Maybe it was the smug way he declaimed about Spike's inner motivations and emotions, maybe it was the fact that he was a bit too close to the truth for comfort, maybe it was that he'd called Buffy "ours"- _she's mine, dammit!_- but he was suddenly even less interested in speaking to Webs than in watching Angelus and Darla. "She's just a girl," he muttered, turning away to hide the lie.

She wasn't just a girl, not anymore. He'd changed her, and she'd changed him, and now she was everything.

And damn, he really had been ruined, because now the woman he'd once thought was all he needed was being helped toward the Aurelian cells, letting out low whimpers of pain as the watchers pulled her along, and he was watching motionlessly, thinking of Buffy.

"Spike? My last shining knight?" she whispered, reaching for him. "I can't see you. Where are you?"

He rose automatically, taking a step forward. "Dru? Dru, what's wrong?" The others had ceased their activities, turning to their errant child with familial concern.

Gunn and one of his former assistants were holding her between them, her head lolling to the side and her eyes milky and dulled. She looked close to death, worse even than anything the watchers had done to her before. "Bloody hell."

Her head sprang up and she searched for him with all the focus of the unfocused. "Spike!" she cried out, blind eyes watering with tears of relief. "Oh, they've all been most naughty, taken from me what I know best. It's so cold..."

Gunn stared at him, not without a measure of sympathy. "Put Drusilla in Spike's cell."

The watcher glanced at him nervously. "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

Gunn scowled at him. "Just do it." He left Dru with the watcher and made his way over to Spike's cell, murmuring the barrier removal spell and taking a key to the lock. Spike went into game face the moment the door opened and hurtled out of his cell and halfway across the room, pulling Dru from the watcher and into his arms.

The watcher held up his remote warningly, but Gunn gave him a short nod. "Wait here."

"Wait for what?" But he obliged, holding a softly sobbing Dru close and watching wearily as the watcher and Gunn turned their attentions to Darla, who reared back and hissed and attacked them with the ferocity of an injured beast, while Angelus roared with fury and threw himself against the bars of his cell so hard that they nearly bent.

And as Darla was carted away to the scientists and Spike returned to his cell with a weeping Dru, he couldn't help but pity even his former cellmate.

He stared down at his sire, overwhelming shame creeping over him in the face of her pain. _I didn't forget you. I know you don't believe it, but I didn't forget. _

But it was a lie. He'd been so caught up in the future that he'd forgotten his past, the woman who had made him who he was. Had it been so long ago that he'd been dreaming of leaving his family behind and trying for that happily ever after with Buffy? Dru had become background noise, just another of his companions, the love and passion he'd once felt for her ebbing with every moment he spent with Buffy.

For a moment, he almost hated the potential slayer for what she'd done to him, how she'd made him unequivocally and exclusively hers. But of course, he could never hate Buffy, not when his love for her ran so deep.

_Love?_

He froze, a chill running through him. But of course he loved her. She'd wormed her way into his heart with a bright smile and a vicious right hook, knocking out the competition with the snarky cheer he'd come to expect from her. Falling in love with Buffy was inevitable as the rising sun, shining goodness that scorched him as he embraced it.

Spike had never been more or less than love's slave, beholden to the women who held his heart. And Buffy hadn't needed to snatch it from Dru, not when he'd willingly carved it out and handed it to her himself.

_Does she even know the power she has over me?_ he wondered. She was still so young, so much of her life stretched out ahead of her, and she didn't need a lovestruck vampire holding her back. But whether she liked it or not, she now had a willing slave who'd never quit as long as she lived.

There was a low moan from his lap and he started guiltily. He'd forgotten his sire, caught up in thoughts of Buffy and what she meant to him. Again.

He muttered an irritated curse and turned his attention back to Dru.

* * *

By the next afternoon, Dru was displaying such rapid healing that Spike was galled by the realization that the scientists had been purposely slowing the healing process. Her eyes were clearing up, she could sit up on her own- though it would still be a day or two before she could stand unsupported- and she was getting restless, as she was wont to do. Dru was a free spirit, a woman unfettered by earthly restraints and not even sickness could keep her from what she wanted.

And right now, she wanted Spike.

He awakened to a pleasant sensation in his nether regions, a wetness surrounding his cock and a low, even pressure exerted on it. He squinted downward, spotted Dru bobbing up and down as she sucked greedily at him. "Dru."

She gave him a sloe-eyed gaze. "Mmph?"

He swallowed. Fuck, it had been a while. But... "What are you doing?"

She stared at him disbelievingly, _you can't tell?_ implicit in her gaze. The sucking continued, now with an added raw energy that made his hips lift from the bed with extra force, and he had to forcibly remind himself to relax. "Dru, please. Stop."

She scowled at him, ignoring his request, and he sat up and pried her away gently. "Wicked evil!" she hissed, scratching a line down his face. "Turning to the sun!"

"I'm sorry, pet." And he truly was, but it felt disloyal to Buffy to accept Dru's ministrations, even disloyal to his own recognition of his love. He couldn't betray Buffy or himself, not even for the once love of his life.

She turned away from him, her eyes stormy with anger, and he brushed a gentle kiss to her cheek. "She won't give you this," she mumbled. "Your little toy doll, breakable as china."

He was silent, but contrary thoughts of Buffy lifted his mood immediately. Dru had never seen Buffy at the height of passion, after all. He'd been careful to keep her safe, making sure that she'd never sink to Faith's level of wanton need among the other vampires. But Spike fought Buffy weekly, saw the fire and raw animal desire that she hid easily off the game floor. Buffy might still be a virgin, but she was far from prudish, regardless of what others might think. She was magnificent, and he would give his right hand to be the one to teach her to let herself be free.

And if she refused? Well, he'd accept that. Or seduce her. He was very persuasive, after all.

"Spike?" The leer faded from his face, because there she was, calling for him from the other end of the room beyond the cell. Had night begun already? "Spike, where are you?" She sounded worried.

He tugged on a pair of pants, whispered "Stay put!" warningly to Dru, and emerged from the back room, tousling his hair sleepily. "You're here early."

~

"Whoa." She blinked. "I mean, hi. Your cell was all empty. I was worried." _Whoa._ She'd spent more than enough time pressed against Spike in the past to realize that he was well built, but she'd never actually seen him shirtless. And _god_, she'd been missing out. He was gorgeous, pale, sculpted muscles rippling as he moved toward her, lickable abs and arms so tightly strung that she reached out instinctively to feel them. "Oh." They flexed under her touch, and Spike let out a low chuckle.

"Isn't this the part where I slap you and tell you to stop being such a pig?" he teased.

Her brow wrinkled. "I'm not _ogling_," she informed him, peeking back down his chest again. "I'm...appreciating."

He grinned. "Please, don't stop on my account."

"Can I...?" She bit her lip, focusing on his face again.

"Do whatever you'd like." And he spread out his arms ostentatiously and gave her a sly look. "Though to be fair, I think you should be shirtless, too."

She reached out to pinch the side of his stomach. "You're a pig, Spike." Unbidden, her hand moved upwards, tracing the planes of his chest, her eyes glazing over with lust. "Mmm," she hummed happily, moving her other hand to join the first in running over his front, her eyes moving to watch his face.

He was shaking slightly with what she suspected was repressed energy, his gaze fixed on her face and his own hands moving to catch her wrists and follow the path of her hands. His pants were tight, and she couldn't help but watch as the bulge in the front of them grew more and more prominent with her every move. "Hey," she breathed, retracting one hand and licking a finger experimentally, taking the moist finger and circling a dark nipple.

He gasped, and she smiled with satisfaction, turning her attentions to the other nipple. "Like that?"

"Buffy..." The bulge was now impossibly big, so she reached out with a sudden boldness and rubbed the crotch of his pants, giggling nervously when his cock jumped against her palm. Spike caught her hand. "You don't have to do this," he said hoarsely.

Her lip quivered with sudden insecurity as she realized that he wasn't another student, as new to this world as she, but a vampire with more than a century of experience. "I'm sorry," she mumbled, pulling away. "I'll stop."

He nodded stiffly. "If that's what you want."

"I'm just...I'm gonna go." She turned away from him, away from the temptation and need he represented, tears stinging her eyes.

"Buffy!" She knew the instant he scented them from the desperation in his voice. "Buffy, love, please don't cry. I never meant to-"

"It's fine, I get it." She really was just a child, new to this world, and it wasn't Spike's responsibility to educate her. She knew how impatient he was- how could she possibly have thought that he'd be willing to sit through her incompetence?

"Get what?" His eyebrows furrowed, perplexed.

"Forget it." She moved away, but he caught her arm and pulled her back. His eyes met hers searchingly.

"I just didn't want you to feel that you had to do anything for me," he said quietly, stroking the curve of her cheek. "I can't stand to see you so dejected, kitten."

She looked down, trying unsuccessfully to conceal her worries from him. "I'm not... I _wanted_..." She fell silent, embarrassed.

"Hey now." He cupped her chin and tilted her face up to his. She wrapped her arms around herself. "Does it look like I wasn't up for it?" He looked pointedly downwards toward his still-prominent bulge, and she gulped nervously.

"No, he's still hot and bothered with no relief," Angelus's voice broke through her thoughts, as he emerged from his own cell's back room. "Just like every other day since the moment we got here." He paused, considering. "Well, unless if you count the amount of times he's jerked off watching Dru and me together." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I haven't seen him come that hard since the last time I was balls-deep in him in Paris."

Buffy determinedly ignored him, making a face and shifting to kiss Spike's palm. "I'm not...I've never..."

Spike leered at her, tongue curled in front of his teeth. "I'd be happy to teach you."

"I'm sure you would," she said good-naturally, finally relaxing. Spike didn't seem to be turned off by her inexperience, and Angelus aside, this hadn't been going too badly. "Ask my teachers. I'm a quick study."

Spike let out a low growl, and she patted him reassuringly. "Oh, yeah, Nigel from the library and I are having a steamy love affair behind the stacks. I go there every night after dinner...no, wait. That's you." She poked him in the stomach, and he raised her hand to his lips.

"Well, you can't blame me for being cautious," Spike pointed out. "The girl of my dreams is beautiful-" He kissed her knuckles. "Witty-" He kissed them again. "Charming-" Kiss. "And could stop a seven-thousand pound demon in its tracks with some tricky maneuvering. What kind of wanker wouldn't want her locked away and kept as his alone?"

_Swoon._ "You better be talking about me." She gave him a winning smile. "And if you ever feel the impulse to lock me away from the rest of the world, I'd be happy to kick your ass until it's beaten out of you."

He squeezed her shoulder. "I don't doubt it."

"So sweet," Angelus drawled. "Gosh, Buff, doesn't he make it hard to believe that your boyfriend's a psychotic murderer?"

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "Shut up, Angelus."

She probably shouldn't have said anything to encourage him, because his smile just broadened with sadistic enjoyment. "Know how he got his name, Buff?"

She did, actually, she remembered with a sinking feeling. Something about railroad spikes through the skulls of several upper-class gentlemen in 1880's London. Something she really didn't want to be reminded of ever again.

Angelus wasn't finished. "But that's okay, he's promised he won't hurt anyone anymore! And if he says it, it _must_ be true. You just look in those pretty baby blues and you can see the sincerity dripping from them."

Said eyes were darkening dangerously, and she took a step back, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She knew about Spike, had read up on him before their first fight last year, and then had conveniently ignored the facts at hand when they didn't concern her.

Sure, Spike was an evil demon who had done more than his share of killing in the years before the Academy. Yes, he'd murdered her sister slayers on the battlefield in the past and spent his time traveling with the irredeemably evil Angelus. But he'd _changed_. Xander had said it. Faith had said it. Narra had said it. Hell, even _Darla_ had said it. And Buffy needed to believe it, because how else could she reconcile the feelings she had for a killer?

But she had to come to terms with the truth, accept that he wasn't one of the good guys, that most of his promises were words he couldn't keep. It wasn't in his nature. Angelus was right, much as she hated to admit it.

_Stop._ She shook her head, trying to clear it of Angelus's poisonous words. He was trying to create a rift between them, trying to make her doubt him. And letting Angelus know he'd won was the last thing she wanted to do. "Hey," she said softly, giving Spike a smile. He blinked at her warily, unsure of her reaction, so she took his hand and whispered, "We're good."

"Such overwhelming trust." Angelus shook his head in disbelief. "I've never seen a potential this trusting. And I did my time with Faith the Vampire Layer."

A low growl erupted from her throat and she tore away from Spike to charge at Angelus. He dodged her questing fist, laughing. "Nah, I get it, sweetheart. Spike's a pretty caring guy." He raised his voice. "Isn't that right, Dru?"

Suspicion dawned at Angelus's smirk and the way that Spike's face fell. _No. Please, no._

But then she emerged in all her naked glory, a waif flitting to the forefront of Spike's cell, wrapping slender arms around his waist and cooing into his ear. "Come now, my Spike. It's been so long and the tea is growing cold." She snarled suddenly, rearing toward Buffy. "Grr! Begone, child! Remove the snare from my prince!"

Spike pried her away, eyes shifting to meet Buffy's pleadingly. She just stared, her expression and mind blessedly blank. She couldn't think, not now, not while he was…they were…

Dru reached for him again, and he set her carefully against the wall, turning back to Buffy. "She's just been brought back from the scientists. She's ill," he said.

"And naked," she said numbly. Was this how heartbreak felt? She was sure she was entitled to a few minutes to process, to contemplate the fact that the love of Spike's life was now sharing a cell with him, clothing optional. And what right did she have to be upset? He'd never promised her his love or loyalty or anything beyond a few kisses that she'd clearly read far too much into.

"Buffy, no," Spike shook his head. "I haven't-"

"He tasted so fine this morning," Dru said dreamily. "Like nectar of the gods." She knelt down beside him, reaching for the waistband of his pants and leaving it to no one's imagination what she meant.

Spike batted her away. "Dru, I _told_ you-" He looked to Buffy again, looked back at Drusilla, his expression torn. Buffy swallowed, averting her eyes to avoid watching him make the decision she knew he would.

Instead, she came face to face with a sneering Angelus, his lips curled unpleasantly and his eyes knowing. He was mocking her silently, and an angry flush spread across her face. He was looking at her as though she was...she was...

_Pathetic._ She was standing in front of her half naked sorta-boyfriend, patiently waiting for him to deal with his very naked beloved. Whom he'd been separated from for a decade. Who had made him who he was. Whom she'd read about in Miss Chalmers's thesis as a proof that vampires, and specifically Spike, had the capacity for great love.

What was she thinking? She'd never thought of herself as one of those so-called heroines from the movies, the kind who waited passively for the man to choose them and whisk them away to happiness. She was strong, and she was independent, and she'd be damned if she was ever so stuck on Spike that she couldn't walk away.

Spike looked up at her just then, his gaze so earnest that something cracked within her. "I'm just gonna take care of her, and I'll be back out in a few minutes." He gave her a brief grin. "I promise, this really isn't what it looks like, kitten. I'll explain everything. And..." He paused, his eyes tender and adoring. "There's something I need to tell you."

She nodded silently, her expression guarded and still. He gave her one last look before he lifted Dru easily and carried her into the back room.

And the moment his back was to her, she straightened, turned on her heel, and strode out of the Aurelian hallway and back upstairs.

She wasn't going to cry. She wasn't going to demean herself like this anymore. Not now. Not ever. And she wasn't going to cry.

Well, not much, anyway.


	51. Chapter 51

"First day back," Gunn said from where he waited by the doors of the training room. "You ready?"

_No._ But Buffy nodded anyway, cognizant of expectant eyes on her. She'd gone through the required two-week punishment, for the first time grateful to be away from the game floor for a while.

Avoiding Spike should have been easy. But there was an instinctive part of her that yearned for the basement every night, carried her feet there when she wasn't concentrating on where she was going, made her pull out Miss Chalmers's thesis during quiet moments and flip to the pictures at the end. That was always a cold shower on her delusions, a reminder of how much Spike's life revolved around Dru. To think otherwise, that she could ever be anywhere close to that important to Spike, was simply folly and ego speaking.

And no, she wasn't staying away from him out of spite or anger. She didn't blame him for helping his sire in a time of need. It was his duty, one she should have expected to begin with. And that was why she was staying away. She couldn't bear it anymore, couldn't keep playing this game that would inevitably leave her broken-hearted. And if the only way to protect herself was to stay away from Spike, then she'd keep out of the basement and off of the game floor for as long as she could.

Which, it seemed, was until right now. _Damn_. And knowing Spike for the inimitable force he was, he wasn't going to just overlook the fact that she hadn't been to see him in over a week. He was going to press her until the truth came out, and then he was going to make her feel like an idiot for her decision, and then he was-

-Not there. "Gunn?" She frowned into the training room. "What's going on? You doing a prince of darkness motif?" The room was dark and gloomy, fluorescent bulbs out and the only lighting in that room coming from tall candelabras that dotted the walls. Dark red carpets were set out around the center of the room, covering the expanse of the game floor.

Gunn shook his head, amused. "Something like that. I've got a treat for you today. Your opponent likes to set a certain ambiance."

Buffy groaned. "Oh, joy. Has anyone told these ancient vampires that electricity is a perfectly valid life choice?" She squinted toward the back corner of the room, where her shadowy opponent waited. _At least it isn't Spike,_ she reminded herself. "So, who is this wannabe freakshow?"

The vampire swept forward, his long cloak wafting in the wind- and where was the wind coming from, anyway? They were_ indoors_! "I am Dracula," he announced, pausing for the inevitable gasp of surprise and admiration.

Instead, she shrugged nonchalantly, unimpressed. "Spike says you owe him money," she informed him, and sprang forward, stake outstretched.

Dracula had a strong thrall, she discovered, his most impressive asset aside from the whole fame thing. It took nearly a week of daily fights with him before she managed to see past his mind tricks, and they were well into winter break when she was finally confident enough in her ability to resist him to see him as an equal.

"That's it," Gunn had told her at the end of her anti-thrall training. "You're done."

But she'd shaken her head, dissatisfied. "I want to stake him." It didn't feel like a real victory otherwise.

She quickly discovered that that was easier said than done. Dracula's other abilities included the irritating talent of transforming to dust and then solidifying again, and she had yet to successfully keep him down, even if it was rather satisfying to stake him with plastic and watch him explode into dust again. He'd just reform and be back in moments, behind her and ready to strike again.

By the time winter vacation was coming to a close, Buffy declared Dracula a lost cause. "He's easy to fight off, but impossible to defeat," she told Gunn regretfully. "I don't know what else to do, short of-" She bit her lip, holding back the words before they caused more trouble.

"Setting him on fire?" Gunn asked, his eyes sympathetic. "Doesn't work. He turned to dust, then floats away and starts again. Same works for sunlight. We only managed to capture him and bring him here with the help of a vacuum cleaner, if you can believe that."

She laughed. "Why, Gunn, you can't possibly mean that the watchers used something that technologically advanced!" she said, eyes widened innocently.

He rolled his eyes. "Can you believe it? Nah, it was just me and Jenn- Miss Calendar on this one. We know how to plug things in and everything."

"No!" Buffy gave a mock gasp. "And Giles let you _stay_ afterwards?"

"Truly shocking," Gunn agreed dryly.

Dracula solidified behind them, moving to touch Buffy's shoulder and incline his head toward her. "You are a worthy opponent, Buffy the potential. Spike has chosen well."

She shrugged, uncomfortable. "Yup. Good for him." Dracula had been a welcome distraction, something new to focus on instead of thinking about her- not her- vampire in the basement. And now that she'd conceded defeat, she could already feel the urge to go to him, to tell him about her battles and listen to his assurances that she was a much better fighter than Dracula…and then he'd look at her in that way that turned her into a big ol' pile of mush and tell her he missed their battles.

And god, she missed him, too. There was something to be said for fighting an opponent she actually wanted to stake, but on the other hand, she never fought as well when it wasn't Spike up against her. He brought out the best in her and showed her her strengths; then brought out the worst in her and beat at it until she was forced to improve. He _knew_ her.

"Next, you'll be fighting two vampires at a time," Gunn told her, waving Dracula off to the special ops watcher and the witch who escorted him downstairs. "Most potentials don't find it much of a challenge after facing down a few masters, but it's still good training. You'll be working in Training Room C, complete with props and weapons." He grinned. "It's actually a lot of fun."

And some part of her that must have really enjoyed torture asked, "What about Spike?"

Gunn looked startled. "Oh, you haven't asked about him in a while." Ordinarily, she might have dropped it. But there was something in Gunn's gaze today, something almost shifty that sent a sudden chill down her spine.

"I'm asking now." She added a firmness to her voice, the kind that she only used when Faith was about to do something really, really stupid. "Can't we have one fight first?"

Gunn's expression was guarded. "Spike isn't...available for fighting right now."

She frowned, her concern growing with every word. "What's that supposed to mean? Was he injured? Is he okay?"

"He's fine." Gunn sighed. "Listen, Buffy, don't worry about Spike. You just focus on your training. Your priority is you, not him."

"I know," she said, pouting. She _didn't_ want to fight Spike. Really. And she'd be perfectly happy fighting someone new. Spike was a distraction, a dangerous one.

It was probably for the best that he wasn't "available for fighting." Whatever the hell that meant.

* * *

Willow beamed around the room. "Okay, so we're all set for next Monday?"

"Buffy's birthday, skip morning classes. Why am I here again?" That was Cordelia, looking utterly bored and slightly irritated. Willow felt a twinge of annoyance. But Jesse was their friend, even if he had been absent of late due to...Cordelia. And the room he shared with Xander had been the best place to plan Buffy's party, even if he _had_ brought Cordy along.

Jesse nudged Cordelia warningly. She rolled her eyes. "Okay, Buffy and I were BFF for, like, five minutes last year. But any more time with these losers is going to constitute social suicide. _So_ not interested."

"Oh, shut up already," Faith snapped, and for an instant, Willow was almost grateful that Faith was present. Almost. And she recanted that thought a moment later. Yes, Faith was a necessary evil when it came to being Buffy's friend, but if she edged any closer to Xander, Willow was going to have to say something about it. Or possibly vomit. _Skank_, she thought nastily, tearing her eyes away from Faith to glance at the last person in the room. Tara was silent, her eyes focused on the wall opposite her, occasionally turning to give Willow a tiny smile of encouragement.

Willow relaxed. "Cordelia, no one's forcing you to come," she said evenly. "In fact, no one's forcing you to be here."

"Amen," Faith muttered, and Willow frowned at her. Faith had been doing that a lot lately- acting..._nice_. It was unnerving, to say the least, and irritating, to say a little more. The world was a simpler place when Faith hated Willow and Willow hated Faith. Especially since it was endearing _her_ to Xander.

He gave Faith one of those sideways grins he'd always reserved for his best friends. "What Faith and Willow said." His hand moved to run through Faith's hair, settling at the nape of her neck. Willow watched disbelievingly. What was Xander doing? Why was he giving in to Faith's slut-charms?

Faith gave him a dirty look, shrugging him off. "Don't coddle me."

He grinned, unrepentant. "You love it." He gave her hair another tousle for good measure, oblivious to the gaping faces surrounding them.

"You'd like to think so," Faith said archly, but she leaned into his hand, an enigmatic smile spreading across her face.

Cordelia, ever the master of tact, stared at them with distaste. "Why are you two flirting? Is that some kind of loser bonding thing?"

And again, Willow was torn. On one hand, she really didn't like Cordelia and was inclined to ignore her on principle. On the other hand, she really, really didn't like Faith. And the way she was reaching out to squeeze the side of a flustered Xander's arm was just...indecent.

"You need to stop doing that," Willow said warningly, taking a step forward. Faith looked up, her expression startled, but she retracted her hand reluctantly, ducking her head down to avoid their unfriendly gazes.

Xander stared at Willow. Willow stared at Xander. Xander gave her a helpless smile. "Look, uh, Will..." His voice trailed off.

Faith rolled her eyes. "Oh, please," she groaned, rising and heading for the door grumpily. Willow breathed a sigh of relief. At least _that_ had been resolved. Faith needed to know that Xander wasn't into skanks like her, even if it meant that she was leaving Buffy's party-planning session early. Protecting her friends came first for Willow, and she was sure that Buffy would agree. You know, if she didn't have that whole friends-with-Faith thing going on.

"Wait!" The call came from Xander, and they all froze, spectators waiting for his next move. He turned apologetic eyes to Willow. "Will, I'm sorry, but you really can't talk to my girlfriend like that."

Faith smirked, sitting back down next to Xander. "Who says I'm your girlfriend?"

"You did, yesterday."

"I was trying to get you onto the bus for free! You think they would have believed we were siblings after that?"

Faith and Xander were bickering, Cordy was watching dubiously, Jesse was grinning, but Willow didn't notice any of it, too overwhelmed with horror and disbelief to process. "You...Faith?" she finally sputtered, gaping at Xander.

"Yep." He stood up, tugging Faith against him and wrapping an arm around her waist. "I would have told you, but I-"

"We hate her!" Willow exploded.

"Thought you'd be upset," Xander finished wryly. "I don't hate Faith."

"He used to have the biggest crush on her when we were twelve," Jesse offered helpfully. "I always thought she was out of his league, though."

"Like Cordy's in yours?" Xander retorted.

"Oh, definitely not," Cordelia agreed. "You got way lucky with me."

Faith furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "Xander's definitely one step up from Jesse," she pointed out. "He's got really nice hair." She mussed said hair affectionately.

"I'm standing right here!" Jesse said to no one in particular.

Cordelia ignored him. "Yeah, but you're a psychopath. You lose points for that, so you're practically even with him."

"That doesn't matter with chicks," Jesse objected. Cordy glared at him, and he looked down meekly. "I'm just saying..."

"I like the psychopath part," Xander murmured, kissing the top of Faith's head.

"Yeah you do," Faith agreed good-naturedly. "And I'm cool with the fact that you're a total dork, too." She flipped her hair. "See? We _are_ even."

Willow threw up her hands, furious. "How could you? Xander, she's a skanky ho! And she's always been nasty and...and jerk-ish toward us!" She shook her head. "What were you thinking?"

Faith narrowed her eyes at Willow, all signs of previous tolerance gone with Willow's newest attack. "Hey, at least he's with the only slayer on Team Buffy. " Willow froze. _No. No, no, no, stop talking!_ But Faith barreled on, heedless of the sudden dread on Willow's face. "You're the one who's banging Kennedy."

_Silence_. All-encompassing, deafening silence.

Then Xander said "_What?_," Cordy exclaimed, "I knew it!" and Tara's face crumpled and shattered. The other witch stood shakily, her eyes downcast, and hurtled past Willow out the door before she could move to stop her. 


	52. Chapter 52

It had only been a few days since winter break had ended, and most students were still adjusting to school again, which meant empty halls in the dorm, and the two girls racing down the hall, one just ahead of the other, went unnoticed by all.

"Tara. Tara, wait!" Willow grabbed her hand, her eyes shining with desperation. "Please, I just want to explain-"

"You don't need to," Tara said stiffly. "You don't owe me any explanations. Your life, your choices."

"I want to!" Willow shook her head. "You need to understand why I did it!"

"Does it matter?" Tara turned the corner of the hall, walking past the room Willow shared with Amy. Willow tugged her inside, slamming the door behind them. Tara wrenched her hand from Willow's grasp, staring intently at the ground. "You never promised me anything."

"I wanted to!" Willow looked at her beseechingly. " I've been trying to figure this out for a long time. I didn't- I didn't _want_ to know for a while. But now I do, and I'm really trying!" She bit her lip. "Tara, I think I'm-"

"I got it. You're gay," Tara said flatly. There was a trace of bitterness in her voice, and Willow flinched.

"I never wanted to hurt you," she whispered.

Tara's eyes lowered. "No," she agreed coolly.

"Tara..."

"No, I understand," Tara cut her off again. "You're attracted to girls. You're just not attracted to _me_!"

"Tara!" she cried out, aghast, and then she was pulling the other girl to her, their mouths locked together for a soul-wrenching kiss. "I wanted this!" she assured her as Tara whimpered against her lips. "I've always wanted this. The moment I knew you were...and I was... I wanted to do this."

Tara's eyes were inches from her own, raw with grief. "Then why didn't you? Why'd you go to...to someone else?"

She brushed Tara's cheek with the back of her hand. "I didn't know! I wasn't sure, and i was afraid, and I didn't know!"

"I could have helped you," Tara murmured, her lips unconsciously drawn to Willow's again.

"No, you couldn't." She kissed the corner of Tara's mouth, moving downward to nuzzle her neck. "What would have happened if I was wrong? If I wasn't gay? I couldn't hurt you like that. Couldn't hurt you at all."

Tara gasped, her hands moving to slide under Willow's shirt. "I'm not...don't play with me..."

"Not playing." She unbuttoned Tara's second button, leaving sloppy kisses down her chest. "Love you, Tara."

"Willow!" Tara pulled away from her to regard her with a suddenly serious gaze.

"I mean it." She cupped the other witch's face in her hands, kissing her chastely. "I love you."

"Oh, Will..." And then Tara had burrowed her face in Willow's shoulder and was heaving long, desperate sobs.

Willow cried with her, holding her in a tight embrace, her heart pounding with a strange joy that she identified with epiphany. This was _it_, the elusive happiness she'd been searching for for so long. _Embracing, belonging...completion. _

Tara's magic was coming up with her emotions, moving to encompass them, and Willow's own magic moved to greet her, to...

"Oh," Tara whispered with watery eyes. "What's happened to you, Will? Do you know how far gone you are?"

Her magic surged forward again, and this time, she could see the way it tainted Tara's magic. The darkness swirled around the purity that was Tara's love, a whirling maelstrom of blackness attacking and graying what was once uncorrupted, and she felt dirty, a foul mark in the face of the light. _What have I become?_ Before Tara's shining beauty, it could no longer be denied, no longer excused. She'd made the mistake, and she'd sunken to depths that frightened even herself.

Her lip quavered. "I know," she confessed, wrapping her arms around herself, and Tara hurried to pull her close. "I'm lost, Tara. I'm so lost."

* * *

Giles took off his glasses, wiped them off with a handkerchief, and then fixed the two girls in front of him with a piercing stare. "He _what_?"

"Took me to Rack's, this dark magic dealer in the city," Willow Rosenberg finished, apologetic. "I didn't want to get him in trouble or anything, but I- we," she amended, tossing a shy smile to the other girl with her. "We thought you should know."

"I'm glad you did." They shifted under his sharp scrutiny. "I'll attend to the problem at hand."

He waited until they were gone before he called to Wesley in the front office. "Get me all of Ethan's protégée," he ordered. "I need to speak to each one. And separately!"

It couldn't be true. Ethan had a penchant for bending the rules, but he'd never go so far as to send students down a dark path. He'd been a teacher at the school for as long as Giles, been Giles's oldest and most trusted friend, been...

_Reliable._

But then, so had Anya, and she, too, had eventually disappointed him. He had a weakness for people he loved, people who'd given of themselves to him and asked for little in return. And there was nobody he'd believed in more than the two of them, nobody who'd changed him more. He couldn't imagine that Ethan had betrayed him so, not when he hadn't seen the signs or suspected so himself. But with Anya as a model, he knew that the last person he'd expect might be the first to let him down.

And as more and more of Ethan's students admitted to his most questionable methods, Giles felt another piece of his carefully crafted world shatter.

* * *

Willow wove through the crowd of students in the dining room, heading for the table three down from her usual one with determination. She really, really didn't want to do this. But love was about doing the tough things for a happy ending, right? And it wasn't fair to move on without a word to one of the people who made it possible, no matter how painful it might become.

At least she had a companion by her side now. Tara's hand gripped her own tightly, reassuringly, and she let out a slow breath. Everything was going to be okay.

She stopped at her destination, smiling tentatively at Kennedy. "Hey."

Kennedy looked from her to Tara, understanding dawning immediately. "Hey," she said softly, reaching out to clasp a hand over Willow's. "You good?"

"Yeah, I think I am." Willow swallowed. "I...uh..."

Kennedy shrugged, at once nonchalant. "You're welcome," she murmured, and then turned back to her friends, the ghost of a sorrowful smile on her face.

"I feel awful," Willow muttered as Tara tugged her away.

Tara mock-scowled. "Willow, are you sending me away for another woman?"

Willow giggled. "Oh, please, as if I could ever resist your charms." She paused to reconsider the sentence. "Well, you know, for an extended period of time. Longer than this one. Because I can't."

Tara paused, giving her an odd look. "Okay, Willow. If you say so."

Willow grinned. "I most definitely do. Come on, let's go to our-" She froze at the sight before her. Buffy was leaning forward, elbows on the table, immersed in conversation with Xander...and Faith, who was sitting so close to Xander that she was practically on his lap. "Table," she finished, her eyes narrowed. "Never mind," she amended. "Let's find a table that doesn't make me want to throw up."

Tara nudged her. "Come on, their seats are pretty far apart. And I can't imagine that Faith's much for public displays of affection."

"I hate this," Willow grumbled. "I hate _her_. What was Xander thinking?"

"I don't know." Tara shrugged self-consciously. "But speaking as the other new significant other in your group, I know that I'd prefer that your friends put up with me over being the reason they fall apart."

Willow's eyes widened. "Tara, they love you! And hopefully, they won't be too wigged by the whole me-and-you thing." She thought about it. "Besides, Buffy's got a thing for an evil vampire and Xander's with the Faith-demon. I don't think they have the right to judge." She chewed on her lip. "Except you were talking about Faith. Got it."

Tara squeezed her hand. "You'll play nice?"

"I'll be good," she assured her grudgingly.

They moved to stand by the table together, Willow eyeing her friends with a challenging gaze as they stared back at the two of them. Buffy was the first to react, taking her tray and moving from the table, and Willow felt her eyes sting with tears.

But then she set her tray down at the head of the table, giving them a genuinely cheerful smile. "I thought you two might want to sit next to each other."

Willow almost wept with relief, Tara's hands guiding her the only reason she made it to her seat successfully. She turned to Xander, who was watching them both with an unreadable look on his face. "So...uh, you're gay, Will?"

"Yep." She smiled at him, perky and flippant and utterly terrified inside.

"And…you're dating Kennedy."

"Now she's dating me," Tara informed him.

Xander furrowed his brow. "Wait, so you're gay, too?"

Tara nodded, casting a worried glance at Willow. Willow returned with a helpless shrug, her eyes on Xander, awaiting his reaction anxiously.

He didn't disappoint, throwing up his hands with defeat and demanding, "Am I the only one at this table who's never done it with a girl?"

There was a pause. Willow looked at Faith. Faith glanced at Tara. Tara eyed Buffy.

Finally, Buffy, bright red and squirming in her seat, muttered, "Define _done it_." And they were all laughing, the ice broken and the tension gone, and Willow finally relaxed, content.

"Willow?" Faith. She jerked up to stare at the potential, her eyes narrowing in preparation for a fight. But Faith just gave her a brief nod. "Sorry about outing you."

Tara cut in before Willow could respond, effectively halting the incoming conflict. "It worked out all right for us," she assured the other girl. "Right, Will?"

"Right," she admitted grudgingly, and summoned all her strength and affection for Xander to give Faith a genuine-looking smile. She'd grown up since that horrible period last year with Jesse and Cordelia. Seeing the way that they'd all drifted apart since then, she'd wondered if it was because of her, if her personal dislike for Cordy had made the couple wary. She couldn't bear to lose Xander, too, even if she despised Faith. And like Tara had pointed out, Xander had respected her romantic decisions. The least she could do was accept his own. No matter how skanky that decision could be. "No hard feelings."

"None? My, Willow, you have gotten soft." The voice was slow and drawling and made her spine tingle with apprehension. "A few weeks ago, you would have destroyed her for it." Ethan smirked down at her. "Where's the Willow I know?"

"Hi, Ethan." Her voice wavered, nearly imperceptibly. But she could tell from the widening sneer on Ethan's face that he'd caught her fear, and he was enjoying it fully.

Ethan took the last seat at the table, at the head between Willow and Xander. "Hello, pet. I've been wondering if you could answer a few questions for me." He ran a soft finger along the side of her neck. She wanted to flinch, but her body wasn't following her commands, stubbornly remaining still and unmoving. "See, I've noticed that Mister Giles has been meeting with all my students today. And interestingly-well, no, that isn't interesting at all- he met with you two first. Now, what could it have been that's shaken Giles so?" His hand settled on her shoulder, his grip squeezing her painfully.

Tara stood up, her eyes glinting dangerously. "You stay away from her," she ordered shakily, but Willow could feel her gathering her power around her like a magnificent white shield.

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Why, shy little Tara, I do believe that's the most you've ever said to me." His own magic surged around him, immense and dark and frightfully dangerous.

"Enough!" Ethan's magic shattered before Giles's thunderous fury, and the principal stepped forward at once. "Mr. Rayne, I'll thank you to join me in my office. Willow, Tara, if you'll follow me?"

They clung to each other, hearts racing and feet dragging as they followed Giles and Ethan out of the room. No words were spoken until they were inside Giles's office, where Miss Calendar and Mr. Wyndham-Pryce were already waiting.

"I've already spoken with Travers. Ethan, you're suspended from your teaching duties until further notice," Giles said immediately, his eyes very cold. "You'll be on call for Academy-related work, but strictly in a professional capacity. No associating with the children." He paused. "And if I ever see you interfering with a student like you were just now, you'll be fired from all Academy work. We can't afford to have a loose cannon like you in our school."

Ethan watched him silently, his lips curled in a sneer. "So that's it, Rupert? You're giving me the boot?" He laughed. "It's to be expected, of course. You'd hate to sully the poor, innocent students." He exaggerated the syllables of each word, meandering across the room to stand before Mr. Wyndham-Pryce. "I wonder, who have you chosen to replace me? Has Wesley finally done his penance?" Mr. Wyndham-Pryce stood silently, chin raised in defiance. Ethan shrugged. "Ah, well, he was never that skilled to begin with. Then it must be...Jenny." He reached out to caress Miss Calendar's cheek. "Such a sweet little thing," he cooed. "But hardly any power."

To her credit, Miss Calendar remained outwardly unimpressed, though Willow could see her hands clenched and trembling at her sides. "That a threat?"

"Merely an observation." Then he was flitting off to stand with Giles again. "Very well," he said, suddenly businesslike. "Paid suspension, I should hope?"

Giles inclined his head, wary. "Of course."

"Excellent." Ethan clapped his hands briskly. "I'll be packing up my laboratory, then. You know where to find me."

He sauntered out of the room, leaving them shaken behind him, and it was moments before Giles spoke again. "Miss Rosenberg, I can't apologize enough for what you've been through." He took out a handkerchief, polishing his glasses and avoiding her gaze. "I can only assure you that, contrary to what you've seen today, these atrocities…they won't go unpunished."

"And what about me?" Willow whispered hoarsely, blinking back tears. "How am I supposed to get rid of all this blackness inside me?"

Giles looked up to meet her gaze. "You never will," he murmured. "You'll move toward the light and fight for what's right, and eventually, you'll be able to hide the darkness away. But it will never truly leave you. It will remain in an ugly little corner of your existence, forever there, forever impossible to overlook." He walked over to her, putting a hand on her shoulder, wise eyes locking onto hers. "And you'll keep it as a reminder of what you could become, and you'll never stray that far again."

* * *

Ethan moved silently through the basement, pausing only to double-check his direction and make a turn down a hallway sporting three cells, each with only one person inside. He stopped at the last. "You must be Angelus."

"I must." The vampire glanced over him with a dismissive sneer, meandering toward the woman in the neighboring cell instead of paying him attention.

Ethan didn't mind. Ethan was very patient.

And, just as he'd expected- he did pay attention to the whisperings from the basement, after all; he wasn't a fool, and he knew exactly how quickly the winds could change with just a few words- the woman's head shot up and she stared at him with wild eyes. "Someone's come, Daddy. Someone's come to change it all!"

Slowly, Angelus turned to stare at Ethan again. "_Him_?" he asked dubiously.

"Afraid so," Ethan agreed. "I hear you're trying to stage a revolt."

Angelus shrugged, unworried. "I'm just a revolutionary kind of guy. Let me guess: you're here to stop me."

"Hardly." And Ethan let a smirk of his own spread across his face. "I'm here to help you."

Angelus gave him a disbelieving look. "You're a watcher. Why would you want to free the vampires?"

Ethan's eyes shone with barely repressed darkness. "What can I say? I'm a servant of discord, myself."

There was a deep silence, the kind in which conspiracies are born and wars are begun, and Ethan stood silently, a hand outstretched through the bars of the cage.

And after several long moments of deliberation, Angelus grasped it.


	53. Chapter 53

"You must remember to be cautious when approaching a vampire," Miss Chalmers told her, extending a hand. She pulled her closer, swinging her around and into Spike's cell, where Angelus waited. "You never know when they might strike."

The barrier went up, and Darla, Angelus, Spike and Drusilla were all suddenly approaching her, menacing glares on their faces. Buffy stepped forward, raising her stake shakily. Angelus was the first to strike, but she'd expected that. She was unsurprised when he stalked forward, then moved with unnatural speed to wrap a hand around her neck and shove her up against the wall. She staked him, darting forward through the dust to catch Darla and Drusilla unawares.

"Buffy, don't look. They told us not to look!" The voice was familiar, and she glanced around, searching for its source. "Don't look," her father repeated, stepping out of the shadows.

But she looked anyway, her eyes widening with fear as she spotted Spike on the ground, a stake through his heart. "Spike!" She knelt down beside him, kissing him with feverish need, lips pressed to the hot flesh of his throat.

"Buffy," he murmured, and she sank her teeth into his neck, freeing depths of oozing blood from within him. "Wake up." Then she shoved the stake deeper, turning him to dust beneath her.

She let out a cry, his last words still swimming around her. _Wake up, wake up, wake-_

"Up, Buffy!" Willow said again, shaking her shoulder with annoyance.

Buffy blinked. "Willow?"

"Happy birthday," she sang out, and Buffy sat up, rubbing her eyes blearily. "We've got a lot planned for your big bash!"

"I...have a bash now?" She blinked again. "Willow?"

"Yup?"

"Am I still dreaming, or is half our grade in the room right now?"

"Don't flatter yourself. You don't have that many friends," came Cordelia's frank voice, and Buffy groaned, slumping back down into bed.

Tara laughed softly from somewhere near the back of the room, Faith snickered, and then the sink went on. Buffy shot up, alarmed. "You're not pouring cold water all over me!"

Faith pouted. "Please?"

"We made the boys wait in the hallway," Willow informed her. "But class has already started, so we really need to get you dressed and out of here before one of the teachers sees us in the dorms."

"Wha-" Buffy tried again. "What time is it? Am I late for class?"

"You're skipping class," Faith informed her. "We're going out and spending the day doing things you want to do."

"But I have a fight today!" She chewed nervously on her lip. Gunn had said that she'd be allowed to fight just one master today, and from the dark way he'd said it, she was suspecting it would be, to his displeasure, Spike. Would it be so terrible if she saw him one more time, just to see if she could be around him without becoming what she'd hated? And yes, she was making excuses, but what was the harm in one supervised fight?

_Judging from our past fights?_ She grinned to herself, imagining how it would go. They'd never been good with long times apart, and Spike would probably tackle her to the ground as soon as she saw him, his hands up her top and his lips at her neck so quickly that she'd barely have enough time to slide her hands down his pants before Gunn would force them apart._Or, if all goes according to plan, I'll push him away. Or try, at least. But it's my birthday. I deserve a treat._

"She's in Spike-haze," Willow announced. "Bring in the water!"

"No!" She scrambled to her feet, pushing past them to the closet. "Give me thirty minutes, and I'll be ready to go."

"You've got ten," Willow told her, and the four girls slipped out of the room together, Faith turning the faucet once more threateningly.

Buffy sighed. It was probably best that she wasn't fighting today, anyway, she reminded herself reprovingly. Clearly, she wasn't ready yet, not if she was still dreaming of molesting Spike.

* * *

"You guys are amazing!" she announced between bites of pizza later that day, snuggling against Faith on the couch of the shop. Jesse and Cordelia had begged off the birthday extravaganza before lunchtime because Cordelia "needed to go be popular," as she'd informed them, and now it was just the five of them, skipping class and eating pizza in the center of town. They'd done some pretty hard-core shoe shopping in the morning while Jesse and Xander watched good-naturedly, followed by an afternoon movie during which she'd tried to focus on the movie and not the fact that Jesse and Cordelia were most definitely fooling around in the next seats over. And now, pizza. "Today's perfect."

"It's not over yet," Willow said, beaming. "After this, we're going to the fair- which granted, isn't much of a fair- and then after dinner, we're going to one of the clubs here for your _official_ birthday party."

"Meaning it includes all the people you don't care about who want to be friends with you or date you," Xander wisecracked.

Buffy considered. It was just the thing to distract her from Spike, wasn't it? "And who wants to date me, Xan?"

Xander shrugged. "Parker, of course. Cameron from a year up. Scott Hope's pretty into you, and Owen Thurman is still holding a torch for you, too. Also every other guy in our grade. Except me," he said quickly, and Faith and Buffy both rolled their eyes.

"Kissass," Faith muttered, nudging him sharply, a bit harder than was probably necessary. He winced, clutching his side. "Anyone you've got your eye on, B? I thought you and Spike were an item."

"I've decided to move on to the living," Buffy informed her, quashing any last vestiges of pain. "Dating the undead is so last year."

Faith snagged a fry from Xander's plate, ignoring his cry of "My chips!" "Are you sure?" She looked suddenly concerned, and Buffy pasted on a blithe mask.

"Yep. I'm all about watcher boys now." She leaned inward conspiratorially. "So, tell me about this Cameron guy."

* * *

Cameron was sweet. A bit pompous, as most watchers near the end of their training tended to be, but sweet nonetheless, and not a bad dancer at all. She'd spent so much time doing what Spike called "dancing" that she'd nearly forgotten what it was like to be conventional, just swaying in the warm arms of a living, breathing male. And Cameron moved at a steady, rhythmic pace, a bit unsteady as most humans were, without the effortless grace that had always made Spike seem so feline.

It was nice to be normal.

The song ended and they parted, Cameron still smiling down at her. He'd been a perfect gentleman, not slipping even a finger from her waist during the dance. Had it been Spike, he'd probably have been grinding against her the whole time, his hands rocking her hips in time with his own as he'd lick a trail up her neck, utterly indifferent to the people staring at them. Cameron was really a nice guy.

"Hey, uh..." Cameron flashed her a grin. "Happy birthday."

"Thanks." She smiled back, leaning into him as he wound an arm around her waist, walking her back to one of the Academy-occupied tables. Willow was watching her from the corner, her eyes bright with the excitement of the newly attached and looking to attach others, and Buffy rolled her eyes at her good-naturedly.

"So, I come here a lot," Cameron said, nodding around them. "It's a great hangout place, mostly guys our age, and not many Academy students want to go this far out to hang."

"Yeah, it seems nice," Buffy agreed. Faith and Willow had mentioned the club a few times, but her nights had always been reserved for Spike and she'd rarely joined them here.

"Would you want to come again?" Cameron blurted out. "I mean, with me?"

She grinned. "Why, Cameron, are you asking me on a date?" she asked playfully.

"Would you say yes?" he retorted easily.

She closed her eyes. "I'm sorry, Cameron. I really like you, but-"

"I got it." He stood up, raising his hands. "I know rejection when I hear it."

"I'm just...I need to figure some things out," she said apologetically. "Trust me, you wouldn't want to date me."

She watched him leave, almost relieved to see him go and move on to a flirty Caridad. She hadn't been lying. She really did like him, and a few years ago, she would have jumped at the opportunity to date him. But not anymore.

Turns out she wasn't much for normal, after all.

"How's it hanging, Buffy?" Faith plopped down next to her. "Getting it on with Cameron?" She tossed her an exaggerated wink.

"Oh, shut up," Buffy said agreeably, giving her a shove. "Just because you're obnoxiously happy in love, it doesn't mean the rest of us are meant for the same."

Faith shot her a warning look. "Who said anything about love?"

"That blush does," Buffy teased. "Face it, Faith, you're one of the lucky ones."

"Who says you aren't?" Faith nodded in Cameron's direction. "If he's not the one, there might be someone else just waiting around the corner." She made a face. "Oh, fuck, did I really just say that? I really _am_ obnoxiously happy."

Buffy put an arm around Faith's shoulders. "No one deserves it more."

"Except you," Faith said softly. She turned to fix Buffy with a penetrating gaze. "What's going on? Why have you really 'sworn off the undead?'"

Buffy shrugged. "It just...it wasn't working out."

Faith's eyebrows rose. "Wasn't working out as in..."

"As in he's back with his sire. Cage-wise, I mean," she clarified. "I don't think they were ever _not_ together." She closed her eyes. "I didn't need to subject myself to that anymore."

Faith shook her head. "Impossible," she said confidently. "Look, B, I've seen the way he looks at you on the game floor. The guy stares at you like he's starving for you. Like you're his one and only. That's not a guy who's absolutely devoted to his sire."

"Vampires have a weird relationship with their sires. Mystical, dependent, loving..." Buffy sighed. "Even Angelus puts Darla first. Whatever Spike and Dru have, it's something I can never touch."

"So you just gave up." Faith glared at her, not without a trace of disappointment.

"What was I supposed to do? Stand around and watch naked Dru wrap herself all over Spike? Faith, even I know that I deserve better than that!" Buffy buried her face in her hands. "It doesn't matter what I want. Spike can't give it to me." She frowned. "And why are you pushing this, anyway? You hate that I'm with a vampire."

"I do," Faith admitted. "I really, really do. But this is the guy who held his sire back so that Xander could save my life. And trust me, he wasn't my biggest fan. That was all about you." She picked up a little glass from the table and tossed a shot before turning back to Buffy. "Spike might be an evil, bloodsucking demon, but he puts you first. Just thought he deserved a little credit for that."

Buffy smiled halfheartedly. "Gee, Faith, thanks so much for confusing me even more. I really appreciate it," she said, her tone laced with sarcasm.

Faith shrugged, unrepentant. "Consider it a birthday gift." She gave her a quick peck on the lips, ignoring the wolf-whistles that erupted around them when the students at the next table over spotted them, and headed off to find Xander, a self-satisfied smirk on her face.

Buffy sighed, heading to the bar to get a drink. She was beginning to sense that she'd need alcohol to get her through the kind of night where Faith was on Team Spike.

To her surprise, Gunn was seated there, drink in hand. "Happy birthday, Buffy," he said, grinning.

She matched his grin. "Don't tell me. You're here for my party?"

He put a finger to his lips, waggling his eyebrows warningly. "Don't tell anyone, or they'll all want me to come to theirs."

"Gosh, and here Faith was set on a teachers' ball for her eighteenth!" Buffy fixed him with a mock-glare. "She's going to be so upset if you can't make it."

Gunn nodded, suddenly distant. "Mm-hm."

Buffy followed his gaze across the dance floor, where a curly-haired girl she couldn't identify under the dim lights was dancing freely. "Who's that? Gunn, do you have the hots for a _student_?"

Gunn scowled at her. "Wow, Buffy, aren't you talkative tonight? Hey, I've got something much more interesting to discuss. Like, say, where you were today?"

She ducked her head. "I was sick. Really sick. We're talking oodles and oodles of vomit, and not even the normal kind, the kind that, uh...can kill!"

Gunn raised an eyebrow. "Vomit that can kill."

_Busted!_ "Toxic vomit." She nodded sagely. "You know, in some countries, they'll quarantine you if you've got it."

"Lucky we're not in one of those countries, then." But Gunn looked amused. "Consider my overlooking this a birthday gift. It's a shame, though. I really did want to see how you'd do against Lawson. He's just been brought in yesterday, and you seemed like the perfect potential to pit him against, with your experience against Aurelians. Kennedy did fine, though."

Buffy frowned at him. "Wait. I thought I was supposed to fight Spike today."

Gunn shook his head. "I just said master vampire. Spike's still not available for fighting."

"Not available," Buffy repeated, her eyes darkening. "You said that last time, too. Why can't Spike fight anymore? Where is he?" A terrifying thought occurred to her. "He didn't escape, did he?" Or worse... "Did the scientists get to him?"

"Buffy, it's nothing you need to worry about. He'll be-" Gunn stopped short. "How do you know about the Initiative?"

Buffy stood up, trembling with sudden fear. "I need to go," she said, clenching her fists. "I'll see you tomorrow, Gunn." Whatever earlier doubts she'd had about Spike and how he felt about her were gone, replaced with grim determination. He was in trouble. And however much she wanted to avoid him, she couldn't stand by if Spike was in danger.

She made it back to the Academy in minutes, panting her way down the halls until she finally reached the corridor to the elevator. She punched in the passcode and overrode the retinal scan, slumping against the side of the elevator as her adrenaline rush faded.

Spike was okay. He had to be. And maybe Gunn had been exaggerating, and he'd just taken a nasty turn during a fight, and he was lounging about in his cell, wondering why she'd stopped visiting him. Or even lounging about with Drusilla. She didn't care (much) who he was with as long as he was okay.

_Just be okay..._

The doors opened silently, and Buffy came face to face with the one thing she'd neglected to consider in her rush to find Spike. Finn, emerging from the scientists' lab as she emerged from the elevator, gaped at her. "Buffy? What the hell are you doing down here?"

And then came the agonized roar of "BUFFY!" from somewhere behind him, and Buffy charged forward, bowling a dumbfounded Finn over as she hurtled to Spike, throwing open the first door she saw and running to his side.

She stopped in her tracks, a hand unconsciously moving to cover her mouth. "Oh...god..."

Spike reached out to her, but she recoiled, stunned by the scene before her. "Spike, what have they done?"

He lay on his back, motionless, chained down. The chest she'd admired weeks before was split neatly down the middle, the skin peeled off and pulled taut on either side of him. His ribs had been cracked, a lung punctured with a large, neat hole. And his heart...god, his still heart was encased in metal, a series of wires running between it and machines at the edge of his bed.

"Buffy? Are you really...is that you?" He craned his head to look at her, eyes half-open and glazed with pain. "My Buffy?"

And she rushed to him, all thoughts of hurt and revulsion gone the moment her eyes met his. "Your Buffy," she said softly, rubbing the pad of her thumb against the side of his cheek.

"What are you waiting for? Get her out of here!" The authoritative voice sounded, and suddenly there were hands pulling at her, trying to tug her away.

She reacted automatically as a ferocious beast whose mate was threatened, kicking and punching aside all who came at her and Spike, furious fists in constant motion. Many of them fell, the ones who made the mistake of underestimating a tiny blonde potential the first ones to go, but still more came rushing in, trying desperately to contain the girl between them and the vampire.

"Buffy!" someone was calling out, and she thought it might be Finn, but she couldn't tell for sure. They all just looked like faceless bodies to her, objects trying to keep her and Spike apart.

"Buffy..." That voice she recognized immediately as Spike's, and she couldn't bear to turn back to him, not when the world seemed determined to make him hurt for it.

"Buffy." A new voice, quiet and sympathetic, and then a tweed suit moved into her line of vision and gently pulled her to him. "It's going to be alright."

"Spike," she croaked, reaching for him.

"We'll take care of him," Gunn assured her, and his arms joined Giles's in encircling Buffy, holding her immobile in front of Spike's bed. "I swear. You just need to let us help."

"He'll be safe," Giles murmured, and now the authoritative female voice from earlier had approached again, her tone sharp and angry. Giles responded just as sharply, but Buffy didn't listen to his words, her eyes instead glued to the man on the bed beside her.

"They're probably telling you the truth," he whispered, a hand twitching in his restraints. She reached out to lace her fingers between his. "They're the best of the lot, anyway." His eyes shifted to her face. "Kitten, don't look at me like that. I'm no deader than I was last you saw me." She nodded, tears falling freely from her still-blank eyes. His hand squeezed hers gently. "I love you, you know that? I love you." She could only rock back and forth rapidly, her lips quivering with silent sobs. He smiled through the pain. "See you...on...the game... floor." His eyes closed, and she thrust past Giles and Gunn's arms to kneel beside him and choke back a fresh wave of tears as his hand fell open in her own.


	54. Chapter 54

Giles's office was silent. Most of the students had already left the school for the night, the rest were far from the school levels of the Academy, and the office was blessedly abandoned, save for one girl, huddled in a seat opposite his desk. She was shivering slightly, wrapped up in a fleece blanket with a cup of tea in her hand. She didn't know how it had gotten there. She thought it might have been Anya, but she wasn't sure. Most of the night was a blur now. And the parts that weren't...well, she didn't want to remember those bits.

The door creaked open and she felt a presence behind her, running a finger down her bruising cheek. "You've left an impression on Walsh, that's for certain," Giles said with savage satisfaction, taking the seat beside her. "She's still puzzling over that fact that you knocked four of her aides unconscious and injured two more. That'll be the last time she underestimates our training regimen."

Buffy was silent, staring ahead and tightening her grip on the blanket.

Giles sighed. "And yes, I've had Spike removed from the Initiative facility. There's no need to put him through that."

She was still quiet, her eyes wet and her lips pressed tightly together. Giles leaned forward, placing a reassuring hand on her arm.

After what felt like hours, she finally spoke, her voice raspy from earlier sobs. "I love him, Giles."

Giles bowed his head. "I don't doubt it."

She looked at him through distant eyes. "I knew him, you know. From before."

"Before?"

She nodded. "You, too. I was four, riding the subway in New York for the first time-" She laughed raggedly. "I think the first time. I don't really remember much from that age. But this...this is seared into my mind."

Giles frowned, contemplating. "On the subway, thirteen years ago..." He stiffened, his shoulders rigid as he made the connection. "That little girl!" He vaguely remembered her from that night that they'd collected Spike. He'd been immediately charmed by her lack of fear and that sparkle of liveliness that had always marked her, and he wondered suddenly how he'd never made the connection. She'd been so _Buffy_.

"Me." She finally turned, meeting his gaze. "You told my dad not to look, but I didn't listen. I saw Spike unconscious on the floor of the next car." Her eyes were solemn. "I think I loved him even then. I can't remember a time when I didn't love him."

"I understand." And he did. He knew the dangers and pain that came from loving a demon, as surely as he knew that it was as hard to resist as any kind of love. Much as he hated to acknowledge it, Buffy and Spike had fallen in love right under his nose, despite his best efforts to break the affection between them. And there was an all-too-honest voice within him that was reminding him of all the signs he'd chosen to ignore, the concerns he'd carelessly brushed aside.

But then, he was also beginning to suspect that love blossoming between the two was inevitable. And in an odd sort of way, he was glad that it was Buffy and Spike, the top potential and the most _humanlike_ vampire. He had faith in Buffy, faith he wasn't certain she deserved- how she had been able to get down to the basement was still a mystery- but faith nonetheless, and he trusted that she'd do the right thing. And Spike…of all the vampires in the Academy, Spike had been most unnerving and refreshing at the same time. He was frank and honest and had as little patience for artifice as Anya, and while it had taken Giles aback at first, he learned to embrace it amidst the plotting of Spike's colleagues. Spike adapted to his new situation surprisingly well, and if the Academy truly did have one token vampire, it would certainly be Spike. And the two together would make a formidable pair, one that he could almost envision turning out well. _Almost._ A vampire/potential relationship was, as always, doomed.

"Do you?" Buffy looked at him with sad, weary eyes. "You've got Anya safely tucked away upstairs. It's so _easy_ for you. You know what she's doing, how much she's changed, that she's doing the right thing..." Her voice trailed off.

"And Spike is a caged demon," Giles finished softly. "It doesn't make him any less evil."

She shrugged. "Sometimes I wonder if he isn't the good one," she whispered. "I used to...I used to think that watchers were right. That whatever they did was the right thing. But now, I don't know."

Giles opened his mouth to object, but Buffy cut him off. "I know that those scientists aren't watchers," she conceded. "But you're also the ones standing by and letting this happen, Giles. Watchers...you're not heroes. You just watch silently as vampires are tortured in the name of science. And how does that make you any better than the helpless demons you're hurting?"

"Buffy..."

She ignored him. "A few weeks ago, I was told to stick a stake through a little kid's heart. And I've...I've been in the basement. I've seen what you've done to Drusilla, to any vampires you can find a purpose for." She met his gaze steadily. "In some ways, you watchers are just as cruel as the scientists."

Giles closed his eyes. He could have argued with her, could have pointed out exactly why all the things she saw as atrocities were necessary to the operation of the Academy; but he couldn't, not when to some degree, he agreed with her. "I know, Buffy," he said heavily. "I know."

* * *

Giles had left a few minutes before, but Buffy couldn't bring herself to move yet, not even after Giles's assurances that Spike was fine. She needed...she didn't know what she needed, other than Spike, to be sure that he was being taken care of.

A frown creased her forehead as she remembered Spike's assurance that Giles would probably keep his promise. "He's honorable," she recalled him saying in the past, with great solemnity that she'd laughed off at the time, pointing out how absurd it was that Spike trusted his captor. But Spike had always had a certain degree of respect for the watchers who treated him well, for the slayers who only did their jobs, for the potentials who never stopped trying. _He's a sucker for the noble ones,_ she thought, the idea tugging a reluctant smile to her lips. _Probably because he's freakishly noble himself._

And oh, he'd be so dramatically insulted if she told him that, but his eyes would sparkle just a little with secret pleasure. She'd wondered sometimes if, for all his insistence on being evil, there wasn't a part of him that wanted to fight the good fight instead. Not a very large part, granted, but a part nonetheless…

No. Who was she kidding, lost in wishful thinking? Spike was a vampire, one who had killed three slayers, and she was ascribing him motives he'd probably be offended to hear. Evil was evil. Demon was demon. Soulless was soulless. And she loved him regardless.

_And he says he loves me,_ she remembered suddenly. Did he really? She couldn't fathom it. She'd spent the past few weeks reminding herself that he'd never feel more than fond affection for her, and his declaration of love terrified her. Knowing that they loved each other made it more real, somehow, made the inevitable distance between them and the doomed nature of their relationship more tragic and filled her with overwhelming dread. There was no future with Spike, not unless she stayed at the Academy after graduation and worked as one of Gunn's assistants, sneaking down to basement at night and holding hands through the bars of his cell. And that was nothing at all, really. It sustained her now, but even that was running thinner these days.

Maybe he'd been lying, throwing her a bone after she'd protected him, or just trying to comfort her. Maybe he didn't love her. But he'd looked so sincere...and she doubted that he'd throw around those words. Spike was the loving type.

"Then it's true," she whispered, closing her eyes tiredly, and she must have been louder than she'd thought she was, because Gunn was suddenly sitting down next to her, asking "What is?"

"Nothing." She wondered how long he'd been standing in the doorway behind her, waiting for her to notice him past her distraction. Giles had probably sent him in right after he'd left, and her senses, dulled by grief, had proven to be crap today.

Gunn nodded. "Gotcha." He fumbled around in his pocket for a moment, producing the last thing she'd have expected- a faded picture she'd seen once before.

He smoothed it down. "This was Alonna. My sister."

"I remember," she murmured.

"You do?" He looked startled, but shrugged it off quickly. "She was a potential here, years ago. Now, she would have been twenty-seven.

"We'd always been close," he continued, and Buffy listened silently, staring at the sharp, knowing eyes of the ghost on the paper. "When she was called to the Academy, I flat-out refused to let her go if I wasn't there to look after her. By that point, we didn't have a family. No one was taking care of us but each other, and I was damned if she was going somewhere so alien without me."

He laughed hoarsely. "Giles didn't bother with the usual scare tactics with us. We'd grown up on the streets of LA. We knew demons, and a stray vampire targeting Alonna wasn't going to do more than piss us off. Instead, he offered her the deal of the lifetime. Come live a luxurious life in a boarding school, one where you can fight demons and have a better future? Alonna was thrilled, but we weren't going to leave each other, and they finally agreed to take me on as a watcher." He grinned humorlessly. "I was probably the first latecomer they'd had who wasn't miles ahead of the class, and they didn't know what to do with me at first. It took nearly two years of tutoring before I was finally caught up with my grade.

"Alonna, though...she was the best. She'd already been trained on the streets and she only got better as time passed. Top of her class, senior slayer at fifteen, facing down master vampires less than a year later..." He looked up slowly, dark eyes meeting Buffy's. "But you know this story, don't you?"

Buffy nodded, and Gunn bowed his head. "It's always the best."

He closed his eyes. "About two weeks after she began fighting masters, she met Knox. He was one of the lesser masters, skilled, but no Spike." He chuckled, a dry, empty sound. "You'd probably have destroyed him in minutes.

"But Alonna had more trouble with him. Like her, he'd been from the streets before he'd been turned, and her fighting style, which usually set vamps off guard, didn't surprise him at all. Alonna was intrigued." He smoothed down the sides of the picture again. "So she asked to fight with him more often, to make him a permanent sparring buddy."

Buffy stared at Gunn, a lump in her throat. "Sounds familiar," she murmured.

He nodded. "Why do you think I fought your request so hard? But back then, it wasn't so unusual. Most of the potentials had favorites, and no one thought much of Alonna's choice. So they fought. And they fought. And eventually..."

"They fell in love," Buffy finished, tightening her grip on her blanket.

Gunn looked pained. "Alonna was infatuated with him," he corrected her. "I heard it in her voice, in the way she'd talk about him, in the way she'd watch him during their fights..." He let out a heavy sigh. "It haunts me even now that I didn't share my suspicions with anyone. But it hadn't seemed like much of big deal. Before...before what happened with her, vampires were each designated by number, not name. They were painted as inhuman and unnatural, and many potentials who came face-to-face with them were set off-guard by how _normal_ the vamps seemed. We've changed policy since, of course, making sure that potentials know that they're facing the wolf in sheep's clothing from the start. But then...then half the potentials had crushes on the vampires." He grinned wryly. "And more than a few watchers were, too. We've never had so many theses written on Academy vampires since."

"Miss Chalmers wrote Spike's," Buffy offered.

He sighed. "You would know that, wouldn't you?" He was silent for a while, and she fiddled with the edges of her blanket uncomfortably before he began again. "No one saw it coming."

"What happened?" she asked, though she'd already put most of the pieces together.

_A hand on her shoulder startled her in a foggy kind of way, and she slowly turned her body to face the vision behind her._

_It was the girl from before, in the place she couldn't recall, the girl she didn't know. The long, dark hair was shorter now, and wildly crimped to her dark, bare shoulders. And it almost, but not quite, concealed the two tiny red circles on her neck. There was a secretive smile on her face. "You're just like me," she murmured, reaching out to touch Buffy's cheek softly. "Just like…"_

"Some of the more advanced older watchers were allowed to work one-on-one with the vampires while developing their theses. They had the key to the stairs- they used to be stairs, before the Initiative built that house of horrors- and they'd go down there for scheduled meetings."

"And one of them gave her a key," Buffy concluded.

Gunn shook his head. "She left the for open. Open! She fucking _forgot_ to-" He took a deep breath, giving her an apologetic look. "Sorry about that. It's still a little raw.

"Alonna went down there behind her. She found Knox..." He inhaled raggedly. "I didn't realize that she was missing until the next morning, when her roommate told me she'd never come in that night. I went to Giles, but he was busy. A vamp had escaped the night before, the lock to his cage picked and the cell empty..." His voice cracked, and Buffy could only watch with silent sympathy.

"What- what about the barrier?" She'd meant to ask about Alonna, but her throat seized up when she did, choking the words back. She didn't want to know, want to hear about what happened to potentials who loved vampires. This wasn't like Faith, thralled to love. This was...

_"You're just like me. Just like…"_

Gunn blinked. "How did you know-?" She just stated at him in silence, and he rubbed his temples wearily. "Of course you know."

He shook his head, the earlier brokenness she'd glimpsed gone. "There was no barrier then. You'd be surprised at how much this...incident...changed the Academy.

"I never saw Alonna again," he finished quietly. "For a while, her fate was a mystery. I'd even tell myself that it was a coincidence that she and Knox ran away the same night. I didn't dare entertain thoughts of her death.

"Then, a few months later, a cell of watchers stumbled across a vamp den led by two vampires named Knox and Alonna. Only one managed to escape and get the news to us. The rest were brutally massacred."

"Oh, my god," Buffy whispered. "Gunn, I'm so sorry."

He glanced down at Alonna's picture again. "That was my cue to run away. I hunted her for months before a few of my teachers tracked me down and forced me back. But Alonna's still out there, an evil, soulless demon."

He leaned forward. "Now do you see why I had to tell you this? Why every single student at the Academy would know this story if it were up to me? No matter what you feel for him, Spike's still a demon, and nothing's going to change that."

Buffy eyed him carefully, selecting her next words with caution. "Do you really believe that? That Spike would..." She let her voice trail off, more for Gunn's sake than her own.

_"You're just like me. Just like…"_

_No, I'm not,_ she realized with relief. _Because Spike loves me as I am. And he'd never turn me._ He'd looked into her eyes and sworn that he wanted her alive, and she'd seen too much truth there to doubt it. "He wouldn't," she said with certainty.

"If you believe that, you're more naive than I'd have ever guessed," Gunn said sharply. "If Spike... he does adore you, and that puts you in even more danger than Alonna was. Because the only thing worse than a hunger-crazed vampire is a love-crazed one, and that story has only one ending."

"You don't give him enough credit."

"And you give him far too much!" Gunn snapped. "Buffy, you're a _slayer_." He emphasized the word, and she was mildly surprised at the terminology, rare from Gunn. "Someday, you could be the one and only one in the world. What do you think you're going to do, come back to the Academy to visit a vampire? Take him with you to help kill his brothers? Sure, Spike's one of the more human of the bunch. But he's still a demon, and it's time that you remembered it."

He stood to go, leaving her silent and stubborn in her seat. "Keep that in mind."


	55. Chapter 55

We're nearing the end- just five more chapters remaining after this one. Let me know if you're still out there! :)

* * *

"B!" Faith barged into the room they shared in a whirl of energy. "Where the hell have you been? I was afraid that you went home with the bartender."

"The bartender was, like, fifty." But Buffy managed a wan grin for Faith's sake. She _had_ run from her own party, after all, one that Faith and Willow had worked pretty hard on. And despite everything that had happened since, she still felt a twinge of guilt when she thought about it.

Giles had escorted her back to her room only moments before with a strict warning to stay away from the basement. "We may limit your battles with Spike," he had warned her. "Once he's healed, you'll be permitted to watch him fight. But after what's happened, you can't believe that we'd encourage..._this_."

She had shaken her head. "Giles, if you think keeping us apart is going to stop me from-"

"I don't," he'd cut her off. "But I can't, in good conscience, let you see him in any capacity but combat."

And she'd said, "I understand," because she really did, and hugged him so tightly that he nearly choked. Giles couldn't push a relationship between a vampire and a potential. Of course, she'd never let that stop her before. And as soon as she and Faith were okay, she'd be down the stairs and in front of Spike's cell, tending to his injuries as well as she could.

"I'm sorry, I forgot that you prefer your men a century older," Faith was snarking. Her brow wrinkled suddenly. "Speaking of which, I heard some funny rumors when I came in before."

Buffy raised her eyes. "Funny-haha or funny-weird?"

"People have been saying that you went psycho tonight, that you beat up a bunch of watchers and tried to free a vamp who, while unnamed for now, popular opinion has decided is Spike." Faith watched her warily. "Crazy, that."

Buffy shifted uncomfortably. "What did you say?"

Faith shrugged, unrepentant. "I'm a good friend. I told them the rumor was about me." She grinned humorlessly. "People prefer gossip about people they hate, anyway. Though I do think that Spike's fangirls were disappointed."

Buffy gave her a genuine smile. _Let it never be said that Faith isn't loyal to her loved ones._ "Thank you," she murmured, and Faith moved to enclose her in a tight embrace, the two girls wrapped in each other on Buffy's bed.

"What really happened?"

"The Initiative. Those scientists?" Buffy laid her head on Faith's shoulder. "They had Spike. And then I might've gone a little psycho."

Faith smirked. "I'm sorry I missed it." She grew serious. "And Spike? Is he-?"

"Giles says he's been moved somewhere safe."

"_Giles_ knows?"

"Everyone knows now," Buffy admitted. "Though I'm sure that most of them have suspected it for ages. Giles might still let me fight him," she added cheerfully.

"And you'll be checking on him tonight," Faith said knowingly. She extended a hand. "C'mon."

Buffy stared. "Faith?"

Faith patted her on the shoulder. "You haven't seen you lately, B, but you're a mess. No way you're going down there unchaperoned."

Buffy blinked. "I'm a mess?" She ran fingers through her hair worriedly. "Faith-"

Faith pulled her up. "It's hot on you. Don't worry about it. Now let's go!"

"Faith," she repeated. "Are you sure you want to-"

Faith turned, giving her a dazzling smile. "Buffy, Angelus took me when I thought I had nothing and made me even worse. Now I've got everything, and if he thinks he can _touch_ me like this...well, he's even more delusional than we ever thought." A shadow crossed her face. "I'm not saying that he still doesn't have some power over me, of course. But I've got even more power over myself."

"And this Spike thing?"

Faith shrugged carelessly. "Hey, if he's the guy who can make you berserk and kill ten men, like Colleen told me, he might just be the one." She flashed her a smile. "You got that stuff about Drusilla sorted out?"

"Not really," Buffy admitted. "I mean, we didn't really get to talk. But he told me-" Her voice caught in her throat. "He told me he lo-" She stopped. It didn't seem right to say it aloud, somehow, not when it was something so intensely private between the two of them. Some moments didn't need to be shared.

But Faith was nodding understandingly. "Got it," she murmured, and said little more as they made their way toward the basement entrance.

"I don't know where he'll be," Buffy admitted, punching in the code. "Giles said that he was moved to 'a safe place', but I have no idea if that means his cell or...huh." She scowled at the door, but it remained stubbornly locked, the elevator doors closed off from her.

Faith frowned. "Let me try." She hit each number, one-six-three-oh, and waited expectantly. "Oh, damn."

"They changed the code."

"Yep." Faith raised her eyebrows. "Gee, I wonder why."

Buffy furrowed her brow thoughtfully. "I guess we can stake out the hallway, wait for someone to come. But that could take all night!" She sighed. "I'm not waiting that long."

Faith was silent for a moment of quiet deliberation. "You may not have to," she said at last.

* * *

Xander was exhausted, worn out, and happier than he'd been in a long time. Because he'd gone out. To a party. With a girlfriend who was, most certainly and regardless of her claims, a _girlfriend_. _Not just any girlfriend, either. Faith, the girl you've been carrying a torch for for forever. _Tonight had been perfect. So yeah, maybe he had a dopey smile on his face and even Jesse had called him a doof, but he couldn't imagine a better reason for it.

There were a series of quick raps on the door to his room and he got up, still grinning, and moved to open the door. "Buffster! Returned from your murder of thirty watchers to free the vampires already?"

She stared at him, little amusement on her face. "Seriously?"

Xander shrugged. "Rumors are flying. At least now, people think it was a tag team between you and-" He stopped, a softer, genuine smile spreading across his face as someone else stepped out from behind Buffy. "Faith," he finished, beaming.

She rolled her eyes. "Get that grin off your face, Harris. You look like an idiot." But she was smiling too, and his heart leaped joyfully.

The girls brushed past him to sit on his bed, and he pulled up a desk chair to face them. "What's going on?"

"We need you to get us into the basement," Buffy began without preamble. "The elevator's locked, and the only other entrance is how you got there through the sewers."

The smile faded from his face. "Absolutely not," he said flatly.

"Xander-"

"No!" He took a deep breath. ""Look, I'm sure that this is about Spike- it is about Spike, right?" They nodded. "And I can't send you down there, Buffy. I won't be the one to put your throat at a vampire's fangs and wait to see if he won't bite. You can't ask me to do that."

Buffy shook her head. "It's not like that, Xander. You know that."

"I know that he's done everything in his power to not be seen as a threat. I don't know about you, but I see that as far more suspicious than the vamp who wants my head bitten off."

Buffy held up her hand. "Let me get this straight. You won't help me because Spike's being too _good_?" she demanded.

"It's unnatural!"

"This whole thing is unnatural!" Buffy snapped. "Do you think this is what I wanted? It would have been a thousand times easier if I'd fallen for a watcher, if I'd never met Spike. But it happened." She closed her eyes. "And while I'm sure that I might have found someone else, I'm just as positive that I will never- _never_- love anyone as much as I love him."

"Puppy love," Xander muttered. "Hot older man, of course you're infatuated."

"It's never been like that." And it was Faith who spoke up. "They're not starstruck, Xan. They're just in love, and it's as simple as that." She put an arm around Buffy's shoulder, stroking the side of her arm. "Xander, this isn't some deep, tortured romance. He's been through something. She needs to help him."

"And you need my help," Xander finished. He was still inclined to say no, especially after the brief details he'd heard about Buffy's earlier episode, but now he knew it was a lost cause. Now she had Faith, who had greater reason than anyone to distrust vampires, on her side. And, as always, he was helpless against those pleading, shining doe eyes.

"If you don't, I can just wander the sewers until I find the entrance," Buffy offered challengingly.

"No, you can't." He fumbled through his night table, finally producing a key. "The ones under the school are locked."

"And you have the key."

"I gave you that!" Faith said, scowling at him. "That's the one from Giles's office, the skeleton key. Give it." She held out a hand.

He shook his head. "Nope."

"Why not?" Buffy demanded, her eyes flashing with annoyance.

"Because I'm coming with you," he said grudgingly. "Can't let you get lost in the sewer system, can I?"

And it was nearly worth it for the soft smile that spread across Faith's face.

* * *

They let Buffy off in the vent in front of the Aurelian cells and settled down to await her return, huddled together in space so cramped that Xander could feel Faith's warm breath against his face. "You okay?" he murmured.

"Yeah." Faith peered through the vent hole. "Just...thinking."

"Yeah." The last time he'd been here, he'd been watching, horrified, as the girl of his dreams was ravaged by the evil vampire now lounging about in the cage opposite them. It was disconcerting for him. It must have been even worse for her.

Instinctively, he reached out to hold her hand, freezing when she gave him a sharp look. Faith didn't like affection, not outwardly, and he was always getting it wrong. Had he screwed up again? "Sorry," he muttered.

Her hand dropped. "No. I'm...I'm doing this all wrong." She sought out his eyes anxiously. "Xander, I really do like you. But I don't do the cheesy, sappy stuff."

"Oh. Me neither," he said, feeling foolish. "It's just a stupid way to show the world that people are together. They don't even do it for themselves."

She watched him knowingly. "Really?"

"Really," he said firmly, and nearly jumped when Faith's hand slipped into his.

He could see her smirk in the darkness of the vent. "What? Nobody's here right now. This is my show."

He laughed, leaning forward to kiss the top of her head. "You're perfect, you know that?"

She wriggled against him, her tight rear settling against his crotch. "You're just saying that to get in my pants."

"Fair enough," he said agreeably. "Definitely a factor."

She twisted her head to face him. "'A' factor?"

He considered his options. Faith was trapped between him and some pretty nasty vampires, no way out either way. All in all, knowing Faith as he did, this would be the best place to tell her. "There's also this other thing."

"Uh-huh." She rolled over, sensing the gravity of the moment. "What's that?"

He swallowed. "Well, I kind of love you."

She stilled, her face pale and motionless in the dim lighting. "What?"

"You heard me." He moved a hand to her hair, running through it with tentative strokes.

To his relief, she didn't pull away. "You...you love me?"

"More than anything." And then her face tilted upward and his tilted downward, and they kissed slowly, more tentatively than ever before, passion building with each moment caught in each others' embrace.

She was the first to tear herself away. "It figures," she panted. "You tell me that in the one place I can't run away."

"I know you so well," he grinned, and dipped down again to capture her lips with his own.

A small, firm hand pushed him away. "Wait."

"What's wrong?" He hadn't made another mistake, had he? He'd heard that women were fickle before, but Faith gave new meaning to the word, and he was never quite sure what would set her off.

But she didn't seem upset, only hesitant. "I also...I need to..." She sighed. "Oh, what the hell. I love you, too, Harris. Don't let it go to your head."

He stared at her wordlessly, then finally burst, pulling her closer and kissing away the scowl on her face. "Perfect," he murmured again, kissing her jaw line.

She moved her hands to tug his face down to latch onto her neck, right where Angelus's mark was. "You're not too bad yourself," she whispered, and he laved the bite with his tongue, sucking it reverently and nipping with his teeth. She shook against him. "Oh!"

Nimble fingers were suddenly at his waistband, sliding underneath to take his already erect cock with sly fingers and pump. Once, twice, and-

_Dammit!_ He came instantly, spraying Faith's fingers and the inside of his pants with the milky-white fluid, thrusting wildly at her until she let out a little cry of pain and he finally managed to gain control of his body again.

"Oh, god." He prayed that she couldn't see how red he was in the gloomy darkness, but it didn't matter anymore, not when she'd already witnessed his greatest humiliation there. He'd done that. He'd really done it. Faith had taken him, tried to give him something he'd only dreamed of, and he'd responded by coming prematurely _all over her. Shitshitshitshitshit!_"Don't mind me. I'll just...go crawl into a hole somewhere and die."

"Hey." She reached out with her clean hand to press a finger to his lips. "It's cool."

"No, it's really not. In fact, it's pretty much as uncool as it gets." He was babbling, but she didn't seem to mind, not when she was busy pulling at his pants again. "What are you doing?"

She gave him a look he recognized even in their lighting, that patented _are you a moron?_ one that she'd perfected years before and used almost exclusively for her fellow potentials. "What does it look like I'm doing? You and I have serious plans, and I'm not done yet."

"But I..."

"Yeah, well, happens to the best of us." She shrugged, unworried. "Xander, you've never done this before. Of course you're gonna be overexcited." She closed her fingers around his cock again, smiling with satisfaction when it jumped in her hand.

"And what is _this_, exactly?" he asked, his voice strained.

She moved a hand to cup his balls and massage them slowly. "What does it look like?" She pushed up his shirt, kissing a trail down his stomach. "I'm going to make you very, very happy."

Her lips touched the tip of his cock and he nearly choked. "Here? Now?"

"Why not?" she asked, her voice muffled. He wanted to respond, but he was suddenly encased in wet warmth marked with a languorous tongue, sucking and licking and kissing until he couldn't even think, much less speak, and he was choking out meaningless babble as it went on, pressure building within him, higher and higher and__ she let him go for a moment before she continued the assault on his cock with renewed force, soft lips wrapped around him and urging him to _come, come, come_-

-Until he finally did, and she tried determinedly to take it all in. She failed completely, gagging on it and spitting most of it out all over his stomach, but then they were both laughing nervously, covered in Xander's come and curled up in a sewer vent. "I love you," he said contentedly, pulling her up to curl next to him.

She snuggled against him. "Bet you say that to all the girls who give you blowjobs," she mumbled sleepily.

"Nah, just the hot ones." He kissed the top of her head affectionately. "Can I try...?" He reached down tentatively to cover Faith's sex with his hand, pressing a finger against it.

She hissed with approval, and he was about to slide down the zipper in her one-piece suit to gain access to her, when he froze.

Someone was watching them. He could sense eyes on them, and when he peered over Faith's shoulder and out of the vent, his gaze immediately locked onto Angelus's knowing one. The vampire leered, making a show of sniffing the air, and one large hand reached into his own pants to fondle himself.

Xander shuddered. "Faith..."

"Hm?" She was shimmying out of her uniform, and he noticed suddenly that she was braless.

He licked dry lips. "I think we should wait until we're back upstairs. This isn't...it's a _sewer_. I don't want to start this down here."

She swatted his chest playfully. "See? That's sappy." But she smiled anyway. "I kind of like it."

Xander breathed a sigh of relief. "So we'll wait for Buffy, and then-"

"Xander." Faith rolled her eyes. "Buffy's been gone this long, she isn't coming back. Not tonight, anyway."

"Huh?"

"You gave her the key," Faith reminded him patiently. "She can leave by herself, whenever she wants to. And if her honey's not in his cage-" She craned her head to check, and he hastily pulled her back to kiss her before she could see their audience. "-He's probably somewhere cozy and quiet. They're not going to give up this opportunity."

Xander stiffened. "So we're leaving Buffy with a vampire all night?"

Faith patted him on the shoulder. "She's made the decision to trust him. And she doesn't need our help to fend him off if he becomes a problem. Which I don't think she will." She kissed him softly. "You've just gotta have some faith in her."

"I could make a really stupid joke right now," he informed her.

"Don't."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now let's get out of here. I'm ready to be ravished." She tossed him an impish grin and crawled past him, leading the way to the nearest exit.

* * *

He'd been settled down in one of the rooms the Academy used for watchers on overnight vigils, equipped with a soft bed and a desk- they were often also used for interviewing vampires for research- and little more. His arms ached from where he'd been tied down and his muscles were atrophied from an earlier experiment, but he was already beginning to heal. Giles had brought down that pretty little witch to seal up his wounds and remove some of the pain, and she'd laced his blood with some sort of potion that was speeding up the healing process. Nice bird, her. All very nice. All very odd.

_If I didn't know better, I'd think that they were making a genuine effort for me_. Yes, he was their model vampire, an Academy favorite, but he couldn't imagine that that had earned him special treatment. No, there was only one reason why he'd gone from the dregs of the lab to a comfortable new private room in the basement.

_Buffy._

He wondered what she'd done, how she'd persuaded Giles. He wondered if she'd been punished for coming for him. He wondered if they were trying to frighten her away from him. He wondered if they'd ever let her fight him again.

He wondered why the doorknob was rattling, and a key was being turned in the lock.

And then he wondered no more, because Buffy was stepping into the room.


	56. Chapter 56

There was a brief moment when all she could do was stare. He was _here_, so close, nothing keeping them apart for the first time since they'd met. And she was suddenly unnerved by the whole situation.

"Buffy?" His voice was as low as a whisper, still pained- though his health seemed much improved- and he pulled himself up to lean heavily against the wall. "C'mere."

She did, of course, stepping around the desk in the center of the room and moving tentatively toward the bed where he waited, an expectant expression on his face. She paused in front of him, forcing a smile onto her face. "You look good."

He quirked an eyebrow, and then he was pulling her closer, cool lips covering her own so quickly that she nearly toppled over in surprise and barely managed to collapse beside him on the bed instead. He rolled over so that he was on top of her, brushing a kiss against her brow before he turned his attention back to her lips.

She closed her eyes, finally able to relax under his touch. Nothing had changed, not really. Not beyond the fact that no bars blocked them from touching each other and no Gunn prevented them from getting any closer. Not beyond the fact that he'd said that he loved her.

His mouth was on hers, teeth nipping and tugging at her lower lip and tongue running along it, and then instinct took over and she shoved him back against the wall, landing on his lap and smirking at the startled look on his face at her rough handling. She brushed open-mouthed kisses along the slope of his jaw, sucking at it with renewed energy, and finally settled back against his mouth to let her tongue do some exploration.

When she finally pulled away from him, he was wild-eyed and panting and she had a stupid grin plastered on her face. "Hi," she whispered, a hand moving to rest over his chest. "How are you doing?"

He shook his head. "Better," he said fervently. "How'd you get here?"

"Are you complaining?" she asked teasingly.

"Bloody right I am!" He fixed her with a mock-glare. "If I'd known you were coming, I would've asked you to bring me some smokes!"

"No smoking." She wagged a finger at him, hitting his lips with each movement. "Those things could kill you."

Spike gave her a dubious look. She reconsidered. "Well, kill me, anyway. Secondhand smoke? And it'd be like kissing an ashtray!"

"Wouldn't want that," Spike said dryly. "So how _did_ you-"

"Webs told me that you were back here." She held up the key. "And Xander has Giles's skeleton key. He took me down here. Did you know that you can get here through vents under the kitchen? It's like a whole anthill thing."

"Xander, eh? Knew there was a reason I kept him alive."

She laid her head against his chest. "You're such a liar."

"Mm-hm."

They fell into a comfortable silence, content to just be close, no battles or passion or enemies taunting them from the next cell over. And if Buffy had ever worried that she had little more than that passion with Spike, she wasn't concerned anymore, not when being at peace beside him made her heart swell just as much as their longest battles did.

"You left," he murmured finally.

"Huh?" She tilted her head upward in puzzled query.

"That day, with Dru?" Oh. That. "You left."

"Yeah."

"And you didn't come back."

She sighed. "I was…it was stupid. I'm sorry." She traced the planes of his chest, shuddering when she reached a jagged one that ran down the length of his body. "If I'd found out earlier, maybe I would have been able to stop this."

He shook his head, smirking. "Probably not. But you would have been forced to sit down and listen to Gunn's thousand reasons why potential/vampire relationships don't work out."

She slapped him gently on his wrist. "He gave me that one today. And it's not funny."

"I know." Spike pulled her closer. "That wouldn't be us, kitten."

She shivered, and he grabbed the blanket from the bed to wrap it around her. "Did you know her- them? Did you know it was happening?"

"Yeah." He sighed. "The girl…she was infatuated. Like your friend Faith. Some girls, they see the danger, the death, and they fall in love with it. Why do you think I get my own cheering squad and your friend Xander can't get a date? Aside from my dashing good looks, of course."

She smacked him. "Xander does too get dates. He and Faith are totally in love. And what are you saying? That I only like you because I like danger?"

"Nah, you like me because I'm a stallion in bed." He leered predictably, and she climbed off his lap, her cheeks crimson.

"I wouldn't know that, would I?" she asked, stretching, watching with amusement as Spike's eyes locked onto the expanse of skin between the bottom of her shirt and her waistline and glazed over. Oh, yeah. Two could play at that game.

Spike curled his tongue invitingly. "Care to rectify that, pet?"

It was her turn for her eyes to glaze over, and when he reached for her, she obliged, winding her hands around the back of his neck and pressing her lips to his, squeaking in surprise when Spike tackled her and proceeded to kiss the living daylights out of her.

"Mmph!" She tore her lips from his, laughing breathlessly. "Spike-" He moved to her neck, and she fell apart, her muscles turning to jelly under his ministrations. "Mm." She pulled him closer, nipping at the top of his earlobe playfully, and he bit down gently on her pulse point. "Oh!"

"Liked that, did you?" He had her pinned against the bed, legs bent between her own to spread them, a look of utter adoration on his face as he crouched down to her neck again.

She chewed harder on his earlobe. "More," she demanded, eyes glittering with barely contained lust.

He smirked. "I've got a better idea." Then smooth hands were sliding up under her shirt and she arched against him, moaning as he fixed his mouth on her bare stomach. He kissed a trail up to her navel, swirling his tongue within it, his laugh a deep rumble against her stomach when she giggled and squirmed away. "Ticklish, kitten?" He flicked his tongue out again, his kisses butterfly soft, sending slow chills up her spine.

There was a fire burning in her core, heat rising from somewhere so deep that she nearly choked at the energy behind it. Spike had reached the border below her breasts, the lacy bra she'd worn for the ages-ago party the only thing standing between them, and the flush of molten heat running between her legs grew as skilled fingers slid to the catch in the back and freed it. "Spike..."

His head popped up to regard her with concern. "Kitten?"

She wondered how she looked, flushed with his kisses, her top scrunched against her neck and her bra sliding off, closer to naked than she'd ever been with him before. But none of this came as a surprise, right? She'd known how this night would end the instant she'd seen him lying in an empty room with his wounds mostly healed. It was rare, if ever, that they could get time alone with each other. And that time was too valuable to waste.

Stolen moments. That was all they could be.

"Buffy." Now Spike had stopped completely and was sitting back up, looking worried. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." She pulled herself up, too, unbothered by the way her bra slid down her arms as she straightened. "Come back to me."

Spike didn't budge. "Kitten, if this is too much for you..."

"No!" She took his face in her hands and drew it closer, pressing a chaste kiss against his lips. "It's not. I just...I wish we had more than this. Sitting in a prison together is our only chance to..." She hesitated, noticing for the first time that Spike had gotten her shirt off, and she was now completely topless. He shrugged sheepishly. "You know," she finished finally, arms crossing instinctively over her breasts.

He gently removed them, lowering his mouth to a nipple. "Make love?" he murmured against it. She shivered. "Is that what you want?" He sucked greedily at her breast, letting her thrash wildly underneath him and cry out with pleasure.

"Yes! Please, yes!" she whimpered, her legs moving up to clench around Spike's hips, grinding his hardness against her. His mouth continued working its magic on one breast while a hand moved to fondle the other, squeezing in time with his sucking and tugging at her nipple each time he paused. She writhed helplessly beneath him, sobbing out her pleasure as she came with a blinding force that tore over her and left her sightless, breathless, and screaming his name.

When she settled back down to earth, Spike was somewhere between her legs, lapping at her inner thighs- and when had he managed to divest her of the rest of her clothes?- with the fascination of a kitten with a saucer of milk. He grinned up at her, his face a mask of utter ecstasy.

She shook her head, narrowing her eyes at him. "Stop that."

He looked taken aback. "Why?" His long tongue swept over the inside of her thigh, and she felt a flash of heat building in her core again.

She shrugged. "It's...it's grossOH." Spike's tongue moved to press against her slit, wiggling down and inside. "Stop...please..."

"Hm?"

All the color in her face had been drained. "Don't stop..." she whispered, and when he latched his lips onto her clit, she let out a genuine howl, clamping her thighs around Spike's head and forcing him against her. He was moaning, too, equally pleased, and she flung her head back and drank in the pure pleasure washing over her.

A hand parted her legs again and a single finger crept within her, coolness immediately superseded by the overwhelming heat down there. She choked out a cry, feeling another chill enter her with a second finger. Spike stretched her slowly, gingerly, and she could only thrash against him wildly, faint discomfort drowned out by Spike's eager lips and hands.

He raised his head for a moment to regard her seriously, and she nearly struck him, the agony and frustration of nearly released pleasure leaving her uncontrollable. "_Spike_!"

He grinned, hands still pumping lazily within her. "Liked that, did you?" Unexpectedly, his thumb crashed down on her clit with painful force, releasing her from her moments in limbo so quickly that she had no warning when she came, crying and crying and utterly lost.

She didn't think she'd actually blacked out, but she had lost focus, and the moment the fuzziness subsided, she immediately sensed Spike wrapped around her back, brushing kisses against her shoulder. "'Lo, love," he murmured, arms sliding around her waist.

She twisted in his embrace to face him. "Hi." Her body felt limp and boneless, loose, limber, and more relaxed than it had ever been before. "Okay, either you're really good at that, or I should have stopped Faith from chasing off all my potential boyfriends years ago." He let out a low growl, and she snickered. "Kidding, Spike. You know you're a sex god."

He nuzzled the curve of her shoulder. "Love you."

She looked down at him, smiling at his expression. "Do you really?"

"Of course." He bit gently on her shoulder. "Saw you that first day...I swear, you were glowing. Knew you were mine the first time we danced. Took me a while to suss out just how mine you were, of course."

She gave him a sly grin. "Actually, I'm pretty sure you're mine." Her hands ran over his chest, stroking the faint lines where the skin had been split, and paused at his still-clothed waist. "Why do you still have this on?"

He shrugged. "Been wondering the same thing." He reached for it, but she batted his hands away, sliding down the length of his body to study the column of hair descending from his navel with interest.

"Hm." She rubbed the heel of her palm against it experimentally, delighting in the way that Spike groaned and bucked under her hand. "You like that?" her fingers crept under his waistband, following the trail of hair until her hand curled around his cock, rubbing the pad of her thumb against the tip experimentally. Spike's hips shot up from the bed, throwing her backwards, and when she next looked up, he was hovering above her, his face intent on hers.

"Are you ready for this?" he whispered. She could only nod silently, and then his fingers were at her clit, teasing another rush of wetness from within her.

He bent forward to envelop her lips in an endless kiss, and she took him in eagerly, lips on his and arms tight around him, hands clenched to his back and nails digging into his shoulder blades as he explored her mouth with his tongue and she let her own do the same.

She pulled away from him for one breathless moment and tightened her grip on him. "Come on, Spike. Let's dance."

He laughed and dove down again to attack her lips, his hand still manipulating her clit so quickly that she thought she might burst, and she came in a tiny explosion while Spike worked at her. Her legs locked him in, a hand let go of him to fumble with his pants yet again, and very suddenly, Spike's cock was hovering just above her sex.

He eased it in slowly, gently, but she didn't want gentle. She wanted fire, and so she tightened her grip around him and pulled him into her in one quick movement.

His mouth parted in a silent 'oh,' and quite suddenly, they were joined, two pieces of a whole finally one, and Buffy was unable to speak, to say anything in the face of their completion. Spike seemed equally thunderstruck, his eyes wide and stunned, and something passed between them that brought Buffy to silent tears.

A finger brushed them away, and she raised her face until her nose brushed against Spike's, and then they were still, frozen in their joining. For the first time in what might've been forever, they were both speechless, caught up in something beyond words, their foreheads resting together and their eyes closed, as close as their bodies allowed.

Spike shifted, pulling out of her a tiny bit, and she bit back a pained moan at his movement within her. There might not have been any barriers to break- she was, after all, queen of the high kicks- but she was already aching and sore from being stretched around him. Was it always this painful? Was it always this _real_? She thought she might be able to handle the discomfort, if only to be connected to Spike again. She thought she might never let him go.

"Hang in there, love," Spike murmured, and then he was moving in and out of her steadily, quickening his pace as she began to respond, crashing into a spot that filled her with an agonizing daze of pleasure and pain.

"Ohh..." And then he was back again, deeper and deeper, and she was crying out his name so loudly that she was certain all the vampires in the basement could hear her, her nails scratching patterns down his back and her lips biting his so tightly that he was bleeding into her mouth, caught in an endless moment of pleasure and pain mixed into something delicious and indescribable.

Spike pulled his mouth from hers suddenly, his own eyes darker and wilder than she'd ever seen before, and vamped out with a roar, burying his fangs into her neck. She came instantly, her inner walls clenching around Spike so tightly that he howled as his release followed hers over a precipice and into an endless abyss, clutching onto her so tightly that she nearly passed out from lack of air alone.

They fell from their orgasms together and sank down onto the bed, still firmly attached. "Never before," Spike said hoarsely. "Never has it meant so much."

She had no words to respond with and instead pressed her lips to the side of his neck. With the reminder, he craned her neck away from him, bending to lick up the last droplets of blood from his bite.

She frowned distantly. "You bit me."

"It's a vampire thing. Marking you, I s'pose, nothing more," He stroked her hair. "That alright?"

She nodded slowly. "I guess so." _There are worse things than being marked by Spike,_ she thought. _Worse things than having a reminder of...this._

She leaned over to kiss him again, laughing when she felt him begin to harden within her. "You're insatiable."

He leered at her. "You think so?"

"I know so." She rolled him over and slid herself down on top of him securely, her eyes sparkling with amusement at his startled delight. "I'm leading this dance."

They made love until Spike deemed it sunrise and Buffy was too sore to move, and when, at the end of it all, Spike wrapped her up in a blanket and stretched himself against her aching body, she was certain that she'd never been happier.

* * *

Spike kicked a random article of clothing off the bed as he insinuated himself against Buffy's body, frowning when it clinked onto the floor. Clothing didn't usually clink, especially not slayer uniforms, and he reluctantly pulled away from Buffy to squint at the noisy item on the floor.

It was a key. A skeleton key, he vaguely remembered Buffy telling him. A quick way to get through any door in the Academy. An easy escape.

He rolled back, uninterested. There was nothing for him outside the school, not when he had everything he needed here. Not when he had Buffy in his arms.

She let out a muffled grunt and reached for him in her sleep, and he moved back into her embrace, giving no more thought to the key to his freedom lying two feet away. 


	57. Chapter 57

"Ow. Oh, ow." She ached all over, and she couldn't quite remember how it had happened. It must have been a pretty intense fight that had brought her to this now, and she struggled to remember through the early morning fuzziness.

There was a soft chuckle from behind her, and pale arms encircled her. "Last night catching up with you, kitten?" Spike asked, and it all came back to her, the Initiative, sneaking in, the earth-shattering night she'd just spent with Spike...

She smiled sleepily. "Something like that." She snuggled closer to him, laying her head on his chest. "What time is it?"

Spike shrugged. "Late, probably. Your mates might be wondering where you've run off to."

Buffy shook her head. "Faith'll cover for me. And I don't think Giles is going to expect me to come to classes today, anyway." She closed her eyes, enjoying the simple calm in her lover's arms. "I can stay here for as long as you'll have me."

"Till the end of the world, then," he said affectionately, brushing a kiss against the top of her head.

"Mm." She pressed her lips to his chest. "Sounds good."

They lay together in peaceful silence, content to hold each other and do little more- though there was a hardness poking into her stomach that indicated that Spike might not be averse to changing that- until Spike shot up, nearly knocking her over.

"What is it?"

"Footsteps." His eyes narrowed. "Watcher footsteps."

"Crap." Buffy sat up, reaching for her clothing. "How much time do we have?" She pulled on her top. "Have you seen my underwear?"

"M'not putting clothing _on_ you," Spike grumbled.

"Spike!" She yanked her panties from his clenched fist, scowling when he snatched them back. "Fine."

Someone was fiddling with the lock, and Buffy hastily yanked up her pants, pressed a quick kiss to Spike's lips, and dropped down, rolling under the bed. It was dusty and grimy and she was certain that she'd be filthy by the time she made it out of there, so much so that even Spike-the-pig wasn't going to be attracted to her in this state._Damn_. There went her plans for the day.

Then the door was creaking open, and Spike was letting the blanket pool down on the floor to hide her from view and drawling, "'Lo, Rupes."

"Spike, please, do put on a pair of pants," Giles said tersely. "No need to remain naked on my account."

Spike snorted. "Oh, but how could I deprive you of this?" Buffy rolled her eyes, certain that Spike was shamelessly fondling himself in front of Giles. He was so predictable sometimes.

And she was right, judging from Giles's barked "Stop that!"

"Alright, then, no need to shout," Spike said agreeably, and then he was bent down to the ground, level with Buffy's own face, and winking at her as he reached for his pants.

"I don't want to see that, either," Giles muttered at what Buffy suspected was Spike's rather perfect ass. She licked her lips. _Silly Giles…_ Then she swallowed that thought, because Giles checking out Spike's ass was the single most horrible image she'd ever had in her mind.

"Sorry to inconvenience you, Rupes." The bed shifted as Spike sat back down. "What brings you here?"

"I came to see how you were," Giles muttered. "Jenny's spell took, I'd assume?"

"Yeah. Good work, that."

"Your back still appears to be bleeding."

"Oh?"

"There's a bit of blood on the bed," Giles observed. "And you have several long marks down your back. You can't feel them?"

Buffy frowned. She hadn't noticed any injuries on Spike's back last night, or felt them when she'd been wrapped around him, fingers digging into- _Oh. _

"Not really." Spike was silent for a moment. "In all seriousness, Rupert, thank you for getting me out of there."

"We put you in there to begin with," Giles pointed out. "And the majority of my decision to help you came only because of Buffy."

"Fair enough," Spike said agreeably. "Be sure to thank her for me, too." There was a pause, and then he was asking, "And what exactly was the rest of your decision? You didn't save me out of the goodness of your heart."

Giles let out a heavy sigh. "It had little to do with you, Spike. You're one of our most valued vampires, yes. You've managed to become a master vampire without completely losing your mind, and you've relied on hand-to-hand combat instead of minions, even after all these years. You're a skilled fighter."

"Please, I'm blushing," Spike said mockingly.

Buffy could practically feel Giles's glare, even from under the bed. "_While_ you are valuable enough that you should have been safe from experimentation, it wasn't about you."

"It was about the scientists," Spike concluded quietly. "You and your watchers, you must hate what they're doing. It goes against everything that your people believe in."

"It's unnatural," Giles agreed. "A perversion that can't be endured much longer."

Spike leaned forward. "And any way you can, you'll assert yourself as the big guy over that bitch in white."

"Yes."

They were both silent for a moment, and Buffy rolled over, tracing patterns onto the bottom of the mattress as she waited for them to finish.

But Giles seemed far from done. "Buffy," he said finally, and she twitched with worry, sinking back further under the bed.

"Buffy," Spike repeated, his voice softening when he said her name, sending delightful little prickles up her spine.

"You won't be permitted to fight her anymore, and we'll be limiting all your battles."

"Is this because of the fan club?" Spike asked, and Buffy almost smiled at the pout in his voice. Almost. She was still reeling at Giles's words. This wasn't Gunn, trying to keep them apart, as always. This was _Giles_, and what he said was law. And now that he was aware of her relationship with Spike, he was going to do everything in his power to ensure that Buffy never saw Spike again. His promises to her earlier had been lies, constructed to calm a crying student but never to give her what she wanted. He was going to take Spike away. She thumped the bottom of the mattress worriedly, and he shifted in response.  
_  
Let's run away, Spike, somewhere where no one can keep us apart. Let's hide and flee and fight vampires-  
_  
And there the delusion ended, because they couldn't have anything more than they had now, not when she had a duty to good and he led a life of evil. And _oh god_, Giles was taking away the one thing that they could have _-please don't-_ when all she wanted was to be with the man she loved. _Please._

"You know what this is about." Giles's voice was low and even. "You can't be trusted with the students anymore, more so than even the other vampires. You are-"

"Oh, so that's it, is it? I _did_ this to Buffy?" Spike demanded incredulously. "I came onto the game floor and demanded that she fall for me?"

"Buffy's still a young girl who falls easily in love," Giles retorted. "You've used that to your advantage-"

Spike cut him off, his tone dark with anger. "I _love_ her! What the bloody fuck do you think that means?"

"You love Drusilla," Giles said coolly. "And I shudder to think of what evil intentions you have for Buffy."

"Wanker." Spike was rocking back and forth on the bed now, and Buffy stilled, huddled beneath him and listening intently to his words. "That's never been what this is about." He calmed. "Dru…Dru's my sire. My creator. The bloody face of my salvation. And I love her."

"Oh." The word escaped from Buffy's mouth, too quiet for Giles to hear. Spike, though…she knew he heard from the way his foot dipped under the bed, seeking her through the blanket. She inched away from it.

"But I'm _in_ love with Buffy," Spike finished vehemently. "Dru's my family, s'never gonna change. She's a piece of me. She's my reason for existing. But Buffy's the reason I wake up in the morning. And I've never loved anyone the way that I love her. Not this burning, this consuming…" She heard him thump his chest. "She's on my mind, on my heart, every instant of every day. When we're together, it's the closest to heaven as I'll ever get. And you say I'm taking advantage of her?" He laughed harshly. "She has more power over me than I'd ever have over her."

Buffy shivered, curling back into herself. _Do you really think that I couldn't love you like you love me? _

"What she feels for you…it's fleeting," Giles said with disdain, and Buffy's head sprang up so quickly that she slammed it into the mattress. "She's still finding herself. That love won't last as more than a fond memory."

"Why? Because I'm a demon?" Spike demanded. "Because I seem to recall a certain other demon that I've heard you're quite fond of. She came down here, once or twice, a few years back. Gave up pretty quickly when our wishes were all about your death and destruction. But I remember."

"I'm an adult. I was an adult when I met Anya, and was more than capable of making my own decisions."

Spike snorted derisively. "You're training the girl to be responsible for the fate of the world. She became an adult the moment she stepped out onto that game floor. Can't you let her have whatever little happiness I can give her?"

"You're a demon. You'll disappoint her." Giles was silent for a moment. "Even my Anya couldn't…there will come a time when you'll put her in a situation where you've done nothing but acted according to your nature, and she'll have to do the right thing. It'll destroy her. And I can't let you do that."

"You can't _let_-" Spike cut himself off smoothly. "I wouldn't," he whispered. "You're a watcher, you've done your research. You've read that damned thesis. You know what love does to me."

Giles's feet moved forward to stand right in front of Spike, inches from Buffy's face. "I know that you committed despicable acts of torture against those who harmed Drusilla. That doesn't make you a hero for love, Spike. It makes you a monster."

"Dammit!" Spike roared. "No! Look! Look there!" Buffy peeked out from under the bed to follow his finger to…_Oh, crap._ "Do you know what that is?"

Giles bent down to lift the tiny key. "It's my old skeleton key," he murmured. "Where did this come from? How did you-" He stopped. "Faith stole it. I'd forgotten."

"And gave it to Buffy," Spike added. "And now I've got it."

_No, you don't_, Buffy corrected him mentally. _I never would have let you-_ But she wouldn't have had to, would she? Spike could have taken it while she was fast asleep and she could have awakened to an empty bed, Spike long gone. She never would have known.

"This is my place," Spike was saying. "With Buffy. Here. And I've sacrificed my freedom more than once to stay here with her. So don't tell me that I don't love her enough to be whatever she needs."

Giles sounded dubious. "And what do you think I'm going to do about it? You can't possibly believe that I'd give Buffy a key and tell her she can come visit whenever she'd like."

"I want my time on the game floor with her," Spike said quietly.

"I can't allow you to fight with her," Giles objected. "Not only because of your…_feelings_… for each other. The other students can't be allowed to see that kind of relationship in our school, not between a potential and a vampire. You would doom them all-"

"-Open their minds a bit too much, Rupes?" Spike asked blandly.

"Yes," Giles stated flatly.

Spike sighed. "Look, it doesn't have to be with an audience. Let us fight in private, after hours, if you'd prefer. But game floor or not, Buffy and I are going to find ways to see each other, and if you really want to keep her safe, you'll let that happen aboveground, with Charlie Boy as chaperone."

Giles was unimpressed. "You underestimate my ability to keep you under control."

"No, you underestimate Buffy's ability to find me," and there was a gentle amusement in Spike's voice. "No matter where you leave me. In my cell, in the labs, even in this room."

That was her cue. She poked her head out from under the bed to grin disarmingly at Giles. "Hi?" she tried sheepishly.

"Buffy!" Giles threw up his hands in exasperation. "Of course. Is it so damned impossible to keep you two apart?"

"That's what I've been saying," Spike grumbled, hoisting her up and brushing off the dust in her hair.

"No." Giles's eyes narrowed. "You stay away from her." And then she was being yanked toward an angering Giles. "What is this?" He touched the mark Spike had left on her neck, and she flinched away from him. "Dear lord. Buffy!" Then he was drawing her wrist to his ear, checking for a pulse.

"You're alive," he breathed with relief, and before she knew it, she was enfolded in Giles's arms, wrapped so tightly around her that she couldn't breathe.

She squeaked nervously, and Spike looked up from a supreme eyeroll to drawl, "Watch it, watcher. I don't share."

"What? Gross, Spike!" But she ducked under Giles's arm to rejoin him again anyway, tossing Giles an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Giles. But Spike's right. We're kind of hard to separate."

"You let him _bite_ you!" Giles exploded. "What were you _thinking_?"

"It wasn't a blood thing!" Buffy protested. "It was…well…"

"It was a shagging thing," Spike explained gleefully, a hand moving to stroke his mark.

She smacked him. "Stop provoking him, or he'll never let us fight again."

Giles was very pale. He shook his head disbelievingly. "You. With me," he ordered, holding a hand out to Buffy.

Buffy sighed. "Yeah, I'm coming." But she paused and turned to Spike for one last kiss, dipping her head back and parting her lips for him immediately. It was soft and gentle and made even more intimate by the fact that Giles was still standing there, too trapped in his own ideas about them to see the beauty of what was truly between them.

And when she finally pulled away from him, both their gazes earnest and loving, she could feel Giles's eyes on the two of them, thoughtful and curious and maybe- just a bit- accepting. 


	58. Chapter 58

"Ah, Rupert." Wesley glanced up from his work at the front desk of the office. "Back so soon?"

Giles nodded wearily. "We must keep a closer eye on Buffy. Were you aware that she skipped class to visit with Spike?"

Wesley frowned. "Visit with- Is she alright?"

"Quite." He shook his head. "Never mind that. I'll be in my office."

"I've sent the new arrivals-" Wesley started, but Giles nodded him off impatiently, pulling the door to his office open and stepping inside.

A little boy, not more than six or seven and with a remarkably bored look on his face, stared back at him from where he was sitting behind Giles's desk. Giles blinked, considering the child. "The Anointed One, I presume?"

A figure detached herself from the wall to stand before him. "I can't send a child, even a vampire child, into this."

He let out a sigh. "Narra."

She nodded curtly.

"You weren't scheduled to arrive with the-"

Narra cut him off. "They took me anyway. I'm not going to leave him to your oh-so-tender mercies, Giles. He's just a kid."

"He's a vampire!"

"He's a child." She stayed stubbornly still, insinuated between Giles and the boy protectively. "That test is obscene, and I'm not going to let you subject him to it!"

The boy watched the argument disinterestedly, his little hands toying with a pen he'd found on the desk as they spoke. Giles noted with relief that, at least, Narra hadn't been able to stop the special ops watchers from fitting him with a collar before he'd begun fiddling with items on the desk.

"Look at him!" Narra gestured at the boy, her face dark with anger and disgust. "He's tiny! He's practically harmless, especially without his minions around! And you'd subject him to a life of torture for the sake of _education_?"

"Slayers must be prepared to fight any foe, even one as innocent-looking as-"

"Yeah, and most of us fail that test!"

"But you're aware of the danger!" Giles pointed out. "You don't underestimate any vampires anymore. And I can't tell you how rare it is that the child vampire we have in custody is staked." He noticed suddenly that he was very loud, and lowered his voice. "Narra, it's a mostly harmless test with a vital lesson."

Narra stared at him. "It's a test that nearly had me leave the Academy. And I know I'm not the only one."

"No," Giles said grudgingly. "You aren't." He thought back to Buffy, curled up in this very office not a day ago, wondering how they fought on the side of good when they gave her a child and asked her to kill it. He remembered his indecision, his concession to her that they were sometimes no better than the Initiative. And he made his decision, because if there was anything out there more evil than demonic forces, it was the scientists that his school had been compared to. "What new regulations would you suggest?"

And he could tell from Narra's startled, admiring gaze and the warmth rising within him as she began detailing a test that would never bring the child to harm that he had made the right decision.

* * *

"I'm better now," Spike informed Gunn, the next time that the trainer came to check on him.

"Better?" Gunn repeated skeptically.

Spike nodded, straight-faced. "Magic. Hate the stuff, but it does work wonders. I feel ready to fight a slayer." He stretched ostentatiously, easily tamping down a moan of pain.

"Excellent." Gunn smirked, unfriendly. "The slayer just happens to be here right now, in fact. I'd be happy to arrange that fight."

"Well, not the slayer, perhaps," Spike said warily. "She might be a bit too much for me in my...delicate...state. Got anything else in the young, blonde, and vicious category?" he asked hopefully.

"You can't possibly believe that I'm going to encourage you two to fight," Gunn said coldly.

"Giles said we could," Spike retorted. "At night, when I'm better. It's at night, and I'm better." He smirked. "Let me at her."

"Fuck you," Gunn muttered, and left Spike's room without another word.

It was three days later when he finally returned, silently gesturing for Spike to follow. He didn't speak until they were in the elevator on the way upstairs. "I know what you're doing."

Spike raised an eyebrow. "And you know, I really doubt it."

Gunn ignored him. "I won't let you hurt her."

"As if I would," Spike scoffed. "I love the girl. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"Because you're an evil, bloodsucking murderer?" Gunn suggested tightly.

"Even serial killers have girlfriends," Spike said cheerfully.

Gunn glared at him, and he slumped. "I'm just saying."

They reached the training room and stepped through the door, and Spike was nearly bowled over by a tiny blonde whirlwind. He caught her, spun her, and had his lips on hers in a matter of seconds, managing a few moments of bliss before Gunn tried to force them apart with a surge of electricity to his body. Buffy hung on determinedly, falling backwards with him as he sank to the ground, her arms still tight around him, but when blood started leaking from his nose and he nearly blacked out, she finally pulled away.

"You okay?" she murmured, smoothing back his hair, and Spike was suddenly hit with intense déjà vu. It hadn't been too long ago since the last time they'd been like this, caught in a tender moment alone on the game floor while Gunn watched. And regardless of how much he might dislike the situation, Spike did understand Gunn's wariness, duty and dark memories meshing into fury on the part of the trainer.

Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to antagonize him. "Love you," he murmured, taking Buffy's hand into his.

Her eyes shone. "Love you, too. I missed you."

"I've wanted to come for days," he assured her, feeling warmth crawl into him at the returned emotion. Oh, he'd rarely doubted that she loved him, though perhaps only in her young, idealized way. But it did his heart good to hear it from her.

She flashed him a mischievous smile. "I'll get right on that." She moved forward to sit on top of him, grinding against him until he was hard and panting for her, a hand sliding down her uniform toward her cleft.

She wasn't wearing any underwear. "_Buffy!_" He froze momentarily, stunned.

She shrugged, suddenly shy. "I thought it might...speed up the process. Was this okay?"

He didn't respond, rising with a growl to throw her against the side of the wall and pin her there, fully vamped and vicious.

She struggled, mostly for Gunn's sake, while Spike raised his knee between her legs, drew it back, and then sent it crashing against her clit with so much force that she let out a choked sob-scream and grabbed him by the shoulders, squeezing so hard that he could feel rivulets of blood running down his back.

"Spike!" Gunn said sharply, stepping forward.

He turned away from his opponent, giving the man an innocent look. "Problem, Charles?"

"Hey, shouldn't there be someone of the witchy persuasion here to put up the barrier?" Buffy piped up, coming down from her stupor.

Gunn shook his head darkly. "Ordinarily, our greatest worry on the game floor is that the vampires will escape the potential they're with."

"Really." Buffy put her hands on her hips. "You don't think I'm scary enough for Spike? Did you hear that?" she asked Spike, a hand dropping to pat his lower back. "They think you're not afraid of me."

"You're bloody terrifying," Spike said fervently, trying his best not to react to the hand currently sliding up and down the contours of his ass, squeezing it playfully.

"See?" Buffy scowled at Gunn. "What, do you think this is some nighttime tryst you've been asked to chaperone? Because if that's true, you're doing it way wrong." She tossed her increasingly befuddled trainer a scornful glare. "Look, Spike and I came here to fight." The hand in his pants scratched a cheek, and Spike struggled to remain calm. "If you really want to watch us make out or something, you can bring us back here during the day, when we're not busy with other things."

"What the lady said," Spike agreed, and Buffy gave his rear one last squeeze before she whirled around and threw him back against the wall.

Their fight was a blur of motion, a dance of familiarity between two people who knew each others' bodies as well as their own, and Spike found that he was content to swing Buffy around and throw her to the ground instead of kissing the breath out of her. Their love wasn't only about their mutual attraction, but the joy they both felt in sparring, and Spike marveled at the beauty before him, the wild, untamed fighter that she was.

_I am so bloody lucky that she loves me,_ he mused, dodging a choreographed kick and slamming his fist into her gut. _So lucky that we found each other._

Her eyes were glittering with fiery energy when she jerked backwards, little jewels of sweat beading down her sparkling face as she popped back up, grinning. "Cute, that," she said, her gaze lowering to the bulge straining at his pants. "Better make sure the little guy doesn't get in the way." She slid down and under him swiftly, sending him crashing to the ground with his legs spread far apart.

He jolted back up, offended. "Oi! Nothing little about him!" She danced back as he started toward her, then arched into a flip, landing both heels in his face. Spike caught them after they'd struck, avoiding the blood erupting from his nose, and twisted, watching with great satisfaction as Buffy went spinning into the ground with a strangled cry.

She landed face first and stayed there, limp and unmoving, and Spike ran to her worriedly. "Buffy! Buffy, kitten, are you alright? Buffy!" He bent over her, reaching to turn her on her back-

-And very suddenly found himself with his back to the ground and a perfectly healthy Buffy on top of him, her stake to his chest and a smirk worthy of him spread across her face.

"Buffy wins!" Gunn announced, but Spike barely heard, too caught up in the exhilaration of victory on Buffy's face to focus on anything but the girl straddling him. She bent to press a kiss to his lips and he pulled her closer, his arms wrapping around her lithe body, locking them together.

He sat up reluctantly, Buffy still wrapped against him and now seated on his lap. She pressed her forehead against his tenderly. "I will always kick your ass," she vowed in a loving tone.

"And I will always let you," he agreed affectionately.

Her eyes narrowed. "Asshole. Like hell you let me win." Her voice was soft, gentle. It seemed sacrilege to use any other tone in such an intimate position.

"The important thing is that you believe that," he murmured, pressing a kiss to the tip of her nose.

"I hate you," she said sulkily, pulling away.

"You love me," he corrected her gleefully, nuzzling the side of her neck.

"Yeah, I do," she agreed grudgingly, leaning against his shoulder. He held her gently, silently, enjoying the surprisingly uninterrupted moment they'd been given. _Has Charlie Boy finally learned tolerance? Doubtful._ Curious eyes sought out and finally located Gunn, sitting on the bleachers and keeping a wary eye on them, speaking in a low voice to a newly arrived Giles and the girl following him, the one he remembered as slayer.

Spike cocked an ear interestedly. "-Could just be an act," Gunn was saying stubbornly to Giles.

"Yes. But..." He paused, shaking his head. "_Look_ at them."

"I think it's sweet," the slayer said, not without a touch of wistfulness.

Gunn shook his head. "It's a sick perversion."

A low growl rumbled in Spike's throat, and Buffy let out a little sigh and snuggled closer.

"It's a perversion of nature, yes," Giles agreed diplomatically. "But there are other options."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Early graduation," Giles said quietly, and Spike's eyes narrowed. They wouldn't dare...

But they did. "Narra's brought me back news of the Sunnydale Hellmouth. With the capture of the Anointed One, no major threats remain there, and there's an open Hellmouth in Acapulco that requires far more of her attention. Gwendolyn's official recommendation is that we have Narra and her move to Acapulco and send one of our best cells to Sunnydale." He gazed out onto the game floor, starting when he noticed the baleful glare Spike was sending his way. "And Cell 481 just lost a slayer. Buffy's proven to be the top student in the school, and at seventeen, it's doubtful that she'll be called. And, perhaps most incidentally, we have reports that her mother moved to Sunnydale a bit over a year ago. We will reunite the girl with her mother, if she so desires it, and give her a worthy cause to fight for."

Gunn nodded, relieved. "I have little more to teach her," he agreed. "She's ready for the fight, no question about it."

"It will be another week before Gwen can finish tying up loose ends in Sunnydale. She'll come here for debriefing, then she and Narra will leave for Acapulco and Buffy will leave for Sunnydale." For a moment, Spike thought he detected a flash of pity in Giles's gaze. "Give them as much time as they want together on the game floor until then."

"Validating the relationship, even for just a few days? You really think that's a good idea?"

Giles's gaze didn't waver from Spike's. "Not in the least bit," he murmured. "Come, Narra. Miss Chalmers is waiting for us."

Buffy stirred in Spike's arms. "Are they talking about us?" she asked sleepily.

He couldn't bear to tell her what he'd heard, so he kissed the top of her head and said, "Of course they are. Gunn says that we're causing all sorts of ruckus among the basement-dwellers."

Buffy giggled, and his heart ached to hear it. "Really?"

"Absolutely. All the other vampires are complaining. They want their own gorgeous blonde potentials."

"Well, they can't have me," Buffy informed him, burrowing her face into his shoulder again. "I'm yours."

"Forever," he whispered, and clutched her to him in a vice grip.

* * *

It was long after midnight when a silent Spike was finally led downstairs by an equally silent Gunn. He was escorted back to the room he'd been using to recover, the door was locked, and Gunn left the basement. And only then did a figure detach himself from the shadows near the Aurelian cells and flit through the halls, murmuring words under his breath.

As he passed each long row of cells, each set of snarling vampires, he waved the charm in his hand carelessly, and the magical barriers in front of each cage fell immediately. He moved swiftly, lowering barriers all through the basement in a matter of minutes, before he finally paused in front of Angelus's cage. "It's done," he said.

"Good." Angelus gave him a curt nod. "You know what comes next."

"Of course." He walked to the elevator, all the vampires' eyes on him, some with knowledge, some with curiosity. When he reached the upper levels, he began chanting again, this time bringing up barriers flat against the walls of the school, making it strongest against the exits.

He retreated to a magic lab, where a single, rancid-smelling potion was boiling wildly, and dabbed a small bit of the potion down the length of one arm. "Vulcan, fall," Ethan intoned. "Vulcan, rise."

In the basement, the metal bars of each cage dissolved into liquid and were no more. 


	59. Chapter 59

One more chapter until it's over...

* * *

The skies had parted and the sun was beating down on them for the first time in weeks, so Buffy and Faith had ganged up on the boys and bullied them into preparing the barbecue of the century for them. Well, they hadn't seemed to mind, anyway. Nothing made the guys more excited than raw meat and an excess of fire.

"Tacos, anyone?" An enormous pan filled with chopped meat landed on the picnic table in front of Faith, courtesy of her very considerate boyfriend.

She snatched it quickly, giving Spike, who was eyeing the pan with a hungry gaze, a dirty look kindly informing him to_back off!_ "Xan, where are the shells?"

He shrugged. "No idea. We must forgotten to bring them out. Willow, can you snag some from the kitchen?"

Willow detached from Tara (because they all knew the two girls were holding hands under the table) and headed for the front door of the Academy, yelling, "Don't you dare finish without me!" as she departed.

Faith smirked. "Can we-?"

"_No_," Xander and Buffy said together, but Spike sniggered appreciatively and Buffy pinched his arm warningly.

He scowled at her. "Watch it, woman!"

She grinned carelessly and pressed her lips to his with affection, sliding over on the bench to climb onto his lap. Tara looked down, her cheeks burning, but a smile was playing at her lips. Faith rolled her eyes and clambered up to follow Xander to the barbecue grill. "Hey, you."

"Mm." He kissed her thoroughly, arms around her waist and bending her backwards, very old movie-esque. She drank him in, playfully sliding her tongue into his mouth and her hand into his pants and he let out a low growl of dissatisfaction at the one-piece uniform she'd chosen to wear.

She only pulled apart from him when she caught the scent of burning meat. "The chicken's burning," she noted breathlessly.

"Damn." He turned to work on it, grumbling, not noticing how high the flames had gotten, nearly obscuring the view of the chicken with their orange glow.

And then the grill exploded, fire splashing into their faces, and Faith screamed in pain as the flames licked at her front, building into an inferno…

Her eyes shot open.

She was in her room, a sleeping Buffy in the bed beside her, and it was just a dream, albeit a vivid one. One so terrifying that Xander's face still made her shake, that the pain of the fire remained, that the smell of smoke lingered…

_No._ She sniffed the air. The smell of smoke wasn't lingering, it was growing. And it wasn't just a dream. "Buffy?"

Buffy mumbled something in her sleep. Faith clambered over to her to shake her. "Buffy, wake up!"

"Huh?" She squinted at Faith, then her bedside clock. "Faith, it's nearly two in the morning! What's going on?" She frowned. "Do you smell smoke?"

"Dammit. Come on!" Her heart raced with rising fear. "Xander. We need to warn Xander."

"Warn him what?"

Overcome with frustration, she slapped Buffy. Hard. "Wake up! I think the school's on fire!"

"Ow!" But Buffy was finally sitting up, alert. "Why aren't the smoke alarms going off?"

"Beats me." Faith stood again. "Let's go."

"Faith..." And Buffy had that tone of voice she got when she was about to say something she knew her friend wouldn't like. "What about everyone else?"

Faith shrugged, yanking on a shirt. "Do we really have time to go around warning a bunch of people we don't like about a danger we don't really know is real?"

"Faith-" Buffy began, stopping when there was a rapping at the door. "Maybe that's Xander!" she suggested optimistically, pulling it open.

It was Amy. "School's on fire, let's go," she said, businesslike. To either side of her, they could see the other watchers, arrayed at the other potentials' doors and knocking frantically on each.

"What...Why are you here?" Faith demanded. Over Amy's shoulder, she could see a bubble of magic, forcing the fire out of the hall.

"We can't extinguish the fire- it's magical in origin- but we can push it back," Jonathan explained from beside Amy. At their dubious looks, he muttered, "What? We're watchers, right? It's our job to keep our slayers safe."

Faith rolled her eyes. Buffy gave Jonathan a sweet smile. "You're a good guy, Jonathan."

"That's it!" Xander's voice sounded from somewhere near the end of the hall, and Faith nearly cried with relief. "Last slayer's out!"

"Downstairs, now!" came Cordelia's response from the front. There was a collective intake of breath, and then the crowd was moving down the hall, watchers and slayers alike, heading for the stairs.

Faith waited until Xander, flanked by his spell-casting friend, was approaching to slide into the throng of people. "Hiya, Harris," she said casually, stepping out in front of him.

Xander's face broke out in a smile. "Faith," he breathed. "You're okay." She moved to kiss him automatically, the world stopping and freezing for just one moment amidst the chaos around them. And she could feel herself calm, Xander's presence beside her the one constant positive assurance right now that everything was going to be okay, because when wasn't it when they were together?

"Okay, let's go," Willow jerked them back to the present good-naturedly, waving them on. "I can't keep this shield up forever." Behind her, Faith could see the orange flames springing up again, the magic blocking them fading away. She shuddered.

"Down the stairs, down the stairs!" Miss Calendar was waiting for them in the stairwell, gesturing them onward. She nodded to Willow. "Good work."

Faith looked to her questioningly. "Miss Calendar woke up Amy and me and had us get everyone," Willow explained. "The fire's building from the second floor, so we had a bit of time...but not much." She shook her head. "No one knows why the smoke alarms didn't go off. But the fire's magical, so whoever did this didn't want us to know about it."

"Or wanted us to find out so late that we'd wake up suffocating and dying," Xander added grimly, his hand squeezing Faith's.

"Also a possibility," Willow admitted, wincing.

They made it to the ground floor, taking the hall down to the main entrance. The halls were packed with students, the front hall even more so, all straining to leave and calling things out to each other in low shouts, a sort of madness rising among the students in their panic.

"Willow!" Tara came rushing through the crowd, her eyes wide and frantic.

Willow took her hands worriedly. "What's going on?"

"There are magical barriers up around the school," Tara announced, panting. "Something's keeping us in!"

Willow's eyes narrowed, and she shoved brusquely past Faith to follow Tara to the front. "I'm on it."

Faith wrapped an arm around Xander's waist, worry building within her. Someone had created a death trap for them, one designed to let them watch with terror as their school burned above them, and then be crushed to their deaths when the fire finally collapsed the rest of the building. Whoever had manipulated this wanted only their deaths, and that terrified Faith more than it had in a while. She didn't want to die, not when everything was finally perfect. Not when she was starting to feel, for the first time in years, that she'd found a place where she belonged.

Well, she wasn't going without a fight. "What do we do now?"

"Attendance!" Mr. Wyndham-Pryce was shouting over the crowd. "Stand in line with your year's watchers and slayers, and have the first watcher in your grade take attendance! All advanced-class witches must be allowed through to the door!" The teachers moved through the mass of students, organizing them into neat lines in front of the hall. Faith took a few steps forward to stand in front of Xander impatiently, his gentle hands caressing her back the only thing keeping her calm.

"All other exits are sealed, too," the slayer told Giles as he handed Parker Abrams an attendance sheet. "We've tried getting out through windows, too. Nothing."

"It's like a prison," Anya added from the slayer's side. "An airless, fiery prison. Maybe an oven?" she said thoughtfully.

"Not helping," the slayer muttered, and Faith couldn't have agreed more. The mental image of Faith and Xander-cookies, blackened and burnt from a fiery oven, wasn't something she'd ever wanted to picture, and something she'd rather not picture ever again. _Gee, thanks so much for that, Anya_.

Giles took Anya's hand. "Anya, I want you to go."

"What?" She shook her head. "But I told you, I can't get anyone out with me. The barrier stops anything human, teleporting or not."

"I know." He kissed her chastely, holding her hand in his. "You need to go. Tell…tell the Council what's happened. They need to send help."

"You're going to send a demon to the Council?" the slayer said dubiously, but Anya nodded.

"I'll do it." She seized Giles by the back of his head and pulled him close, burying him in a passionate kiss that made all the nearby watchers scrunch up their faces in disgust and Faith and Xander smile indulgently. "I love you, Rupie," she murmured as she pulled away.

"I love you." He kissed her softly and took a step back, and Anya was gone a moment later.

"Go!" Giles ordered, turning back to them, the softness utterly gone. "This is a matter of some urgency! Mr. Abrams, is your class all here?"

Parker frowned. "I don't see Willow or Tara or Amy-"

"Advanced witches," Faith interrupted. "They're in the front."

"-Or Buffy," Parker finished.

"Buffy?" Faith repeated, her stomach twisting unpleasantly. "But she came downstairs. I saw her leave the room."

"Of course she did," Giles said grimly, and they shared a dark look, no doubt in either of their minds exactly where Buffy had gone.

"What?" Parker asked blankly, looking from Giles to Faith to Xander. "What?"

"Nothing." Giles turned to the inner hallway leading to the training rooms. "Wait here, I'll- Good lord."

Faith frowned. "Giles?" She followed him to the intersection of corridors, and her mouth dropped open. "_Shit!_"

Vampires. A seething mass of bulging brows and lengthened fangs, pouring down the hallway with crazed murder in their eyes and hatred in their gazes. Vampires larger and faster than Faith had ever seen them before, but that might have just been a trick of the light, or a trick of experiences in which vampires were both tethered and blocked, the danger almost non-existent compared to the very real danger now. Vampires who didn't react as Giles frantically clicked his shocker-thingy, whose low snarls were getting louder and louder as they drew closer. Vampires who even other students were beginning to notice, Faith guessed, from the deathly hush that spread through the crowd of watchers and students.

"Oh, hell," murmured Kennedy from behind her.

"Yeah." They were close, slowed down only by the narrow corridors and the fact that they'd devolved into a crazed mob that spent more time pushing past each other than moving forward.

"What do we do?" Caridad wondered.

Faith turned to face her, noticing with surprise that her classmates were clustered behind _her_ expectantly. "What do you think we do?" she demanded, feeling a rising exhilaration. "Run away? Hide? We're slayers. We kick vampire ass!"

"Yeah!" Kennedy agreed, pumping a fist, and they arrayed themselves around the crowd protectively, falling into accepted stances, their fists at the ready. More slayers, older ones she had never even spoken to before, younger ones she'd only brushed off or scared off in the past, followed her lead, moving forward to face the vampires head-on with grim determination.

A younger girl, not more than twelve or thirteen, stood beside her, fists clenched and defiant. Faith stared at her dubiously. "What's your name?"

"Dawn." The shadows of the first vampires cast shadows across the wall of the hall, and Faith moved forward swiftly.

"Dawn, you're not trained for this. Get back."

"I'm going to fight!" Dawn's lip jutted out stubbornly. "I'm a slayer!"

"No, you're a girl with a chance. And you need to make sure that some of us slayers survive this battle, got it?" She didn't look down at her. "We need to protect you."

"I don't want-"

"It's not about what you want, kid," the slayer said, gliding through the crowd. "It's about what the world needs."

And she turned the corner and hurtled toward the vampires.

* * *

"It's _strong_," Amy breathed, pressing up against the barrier.

"It's dirty," Tara said with distaste, taking a step back.

Willow put a tentative hand on it, jerking in surprise when the dark within _sucked_ at her, yanking her inwards. Tara was right; it was the foulest of magics, darker than anything they'd been taught at the Academy, captured from the deepest depths of hell and trapped in their midst as a black disease.

And god help her, it called to her.

"It's too much," Miss Calendar said grimly. "There's a full wall of black magic blocking us out."

"It's not a wall, it's a vacuum," Amy objected.

One of the older witches shook her head. "It's an open door."

"Whatever it is, it's not going to let us in. No one can touch that without losing their mind," another witch offered, poking a finger at the barrier.

_I can._ She'd faced that kind of darkness before, hadn't she? And though there had been some bumps along the way, she'd managed to return from it before. The thought occurred to Willow just as it did to Tara, and they stared at each other silently, Willow pleading, Tara impassive.

"I need to, Tara," she whispered. "If I'm able to-"

"And if you're not?" Tara challenged. "If it hurts you, or kills you..."

_Or consumes you_... Neither of them said it. Neither of them had to.

Willow gave Tara a sad little shrug. "We're doomed either way, right?" And before Tara could stop her, before Miss Calendar could see what she was doing, before anyone else could comment, she touched the barrier, closed her eyes, and surrendered to the darkness.

* * *

Mr. Wyndham-Pryce was intoning frantically, erecting protective barriers around them, but a slew of vampires had already made it through to attack the potentials guarding the outskirts of the group, and the barrier itself weakened each time one of them landed a blow on the chanting watcher. The slayer fought at the forefront, and Xander watched with a mix of pride and mind-numbing terror as Faith moved to join her.

"How do you like me now, Kakistos?" Faith taunted, slamming a plastic stake into a vampire's chest triumphantly.

"Take this." The slayer passed Faith her spare stake and hurtled forward, her mind already on the next enemy.

The potentials were putting up a good fight, repelling the enemy from the inner circle of watchers and younger students, but they were falling rapidly. Plastic weapons might have been an adequate resource on the game floor, but in real life, where the vampires bit with no repercussions, they were only an easy way to slow down a potential in order for a vamp to deliver a killing blow.

"Xan!" Jesse bounded over to him, eyes gleaming with excitement. "What are you just standing around for? Come on! Let's do this!"

"With what?" Xander demanded, frustrated. "No weapons, no training...we'll just get in the way." If nothing else, past experiences had taught him caution, and that he could do more harm than good in "helping" those equipped for this task.

"Don't be a coward," Jesse said dismissively, hurling himself at the closest vampire.

"I'm not- Dammit, Jesse!" He followed with a sigh, shoving through the crowd to reach the vampires, landing a powerful fist on the skull of the closest one. Jesse was just ahead of him, gleefully trading punches with another.

It happened so quickly that Xander didn't realize what was happening until Jesse was lying on the ground. The vampire had struck him, Jesse had fallen back, out of Xander's line of sight, and then he'd been-

Gone. God, it had only been seconds since he'd been standing behind Xander, laughing at the concept of letting others do the fighting. Only moments since-

He was just unconscious, that was it. Pale and dead on the floor wasn't Jesse's style. He went down, but he always came up. He always-

"Xander!" Faith sprang in front of him, staking a vampire gunning for his throat with an easy blow. "What the hell are you doing? Get back!"

"Jesse-" He gestured helplessly.

Faith stared at the body, not without some regret. "Fuck." She yanked him away. "Focus, Harris! You can't worry about Jesse now!"

He nodded mechanically, and she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. "Go. Tell Mr. Wyndham-Pryce to put up a barrier in front of the watchers and leave the rest to us. Got it?"

He nodded again blankly.

But when the barrier went up behind him and Gunn finally emerged from a closet near the entrance of the school with a handful of wooden stakes, Xander grabbed one and charged toward the vampire onslaught. Jesse would have gotten a kick out of being avenged, after all. And there was no way that he would ever let Faith face a danger this horrifying alone.

* * *

It was like bathing in tar. Darkness, pitch-black darkness surrounded her, and she could _feel_ the filth of it, the way it clung to her and wouldn't let go. And she couldn't breathe, not when the air around her was dirty and tainted, when inhaling felt like spreading herself open and inviting the vilest of visitors in. It was so cold. So empty. So suffocating. All at the same time.

But Willow forged on, determined to find...something. She couldn't quite remember what. The old world, that one with people and life and magic that wasn't unclean seemed an impossible reality to her, a mere illusion amidst the stark reality of existence, and she found herself forgetting the dream with her every movement forward.

And then, slowly, the magic around her stopped feeling so wrong and began to feel _real_, honest, and utterly inescapable. It was inevitable that she'd cave to it and she began to bend, conceding defeat to a monster she couldn't see.

No. Not a monster. And as she conceded to the darkness, it parted and clarified, giving her a glimpse of what lay beyond it. And she _knew_ it.

_No. No, not you. Not…_

She fled, but the blackness enveloped her, trapping her fast as a black hole, and all her struggles only served to pull her deeper inside until she could do was still and await her doom, trapped within a bottomless pit of oblivion.

The handhold appeared as if from nowhere, a tiny spark of light amidst the darkness, and she reached for it with all her might, everything that she was straining for it. _Please…_

_Come,_ whispered the light, and she followed gratefully, the pit below her sinking still. And then the brightness enveloped her and she drank it in, made it a part of herself, and she was stumbling from a hole she had torn in a wall that bled evil and falling from a barrier that sought to kill her.

"Willow?" She opened her eyes to meet Tara's warm ones, just above her. "Are you alright?"

She nodded hesitantly. "Did you…? You came for me," she whispered.

Tara shook her head. "I tried. But I couldn't get in. I'm sorry, Will."

"Then who…?" She closed her eyes, trying to find the light that had guided her. And she found only herself. "Oh."

"Oh?"

She smiled radiantly. "I'll tell you later. But for now…" She placed a hand against the barrier, feeling the part she'd torn through. It was little, but large enough for most of the smaller students to squeeze into. "I think we've got a way out." She stepped back, letting Miss Calendar hurry over to check the ragged hole in the magic. "And I need to speak to Giles," she added grimly. "I know who did this."

* * *

The kitchen vents. She'd decided to crawl through the metal vents, _while_ the building was on fire, to try to get to the basement. As far as brilliant ideas went, this one had kind of fallen short.

"Great plan, Buffy," she muttered to herself as she crouched, pulling up her pants to blow on her knees. They'd gotten the brunt of the pain of the burning hot metal, and were now red and raw and hurt even more when she breathed on them. "Die before you get Spike out."

Fire rose, right? So Spike would be safe for now, deep in a cold stone basement that was virtually fireproof. And she was trying desperately to find a way to save him instead of escaping with her friends from the deathtrap aboveground. Not to mention that she had no way of getting into the room he was locked in…

But she hadn't been able to help herself. She'd heard the word fire and a burning vampire had come to mind, dust before she could get to him. And she wasn't going anywhere without Spike by her side, not after the last time she'd left him.

Her determination returned, and she began the long crawl again, biting back tears at the way the metal stung her hands again. It wouldn't be long now, just a few short moments before she was directly above the basement, and she quickened her pace, breathing with relief when she caught sight of Angelus standing opposite her. _Finally. _

She slid down the outer vent to land in a crouch on the floor-

-And was nearly bowled over by a blinding blow to the head.

Angelus loomed over her, free from his cage at last. "Ah, little Buffy," he drawled. "I was so hoping you'd come visit today."


	60. Chapter 60

"Everyone out!" Miss Chalmers was shouting, Willow and Tara on either side of her, urging students through the tiny exit. They'd started with the smallest children, the ones who could fit past the ragged hole in the barrier with little trouble, but now it was getting more difficult, and each student escaped was a battle. "To the front! Move to the front!"

Potentials were fighting back the mob, breaking off to race to the exit when they could, and only the actual slayer, the teachers, and a lone few remained to protect the others' escapes. And naturally, Faith, who'd been torn apart by more than a few vampires already, was still hard at work, bloody and damaged and laughing with sheer exhilaration. Xander grabbed her, pulling her to him. "Come on! We need to go!"

"I'm not leaving yet!" Faith kneed the closest vampire in the crotch, throwing him down when he recoiled and jabbing her stake into his heart. "I've got a war to win!"

"We're not going to win!" They were deep in the midst of the vampire mob, and as many vampires as the slayers had beaten down, triple that amount remained. They were like raging beasts, powerful and dangerous and unbeatable, and too many students had fallen already for this battle to ever be considered a victory. "Faith, come here!"

"You go, then," Faith said stubbornly. "I'm staying here."

"Faith…" His voice cracked, and she turned to look at him with sudden concern. "Please. I can't lose you."

She stopped, her face softening. "Xander…"

"Go, both of you," Gunn barked out, giving Faith a shove. "We've got this."

"But…" In front of them, a vampire slammed the slayer against the wall headfirst. She jumped back up, blinking blood out of her eyes and attacking again.

Faith moved to her, but Xander seized her again. "Faith!" He slammed a stake into the closest vampire, missing the heart completely, but the vampire reeled to the side and cleared a path to the exit for them. "Now!"

She followed him to where Willow was struggling with one of the younger boys, trying to shove him out through the barrier. "Will, Faith!" Xander ordered, pushing her forward.

With one last push, the boy was out and Faith was moved to the front of the line. She turned to look at him. "What about you?" she demanded. "When are you coming through?"

"Soon," Willow said, businesslike. "He's a guy, and he's not injured. They're at the end of the line." She turned away from Faith to toss a remorseful gaze at Xander.

They'd lied, of course. The tear in the barrier wasn't stretchable. The people still waiting to leave, the ones who were broader or larger than the hole were the ones who weren't going to make it through.

But Faith didn't have to know that Xander wasn't getting out.

* * *

"It was entertaining at first," Angelus mused, kicking Buffy in the gut. "Spike had found himself a pet potential. He wouldn't be the first, you know." Buffy struggled to stand up, and Angelus gave her another kick. "I've never seen a vampire with more of a sire complex. Wants to be just like his old daddy." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "I was flattered at first. Who wouldn't be? And Darla was so chuffed at the idea of Spike with a plaything instead of me. That woman hates to be ignored, am I right?"

Drusilla giggled maniacally from behind him. Buffy gritted her teeth. "Do you ever shut up?" She scissored her legs around one of his feet and twisted, sending him flying.

He landed against the back wall of his cage, the smirk still fixed on his face. "Well, that's just adorable. You're actually as vicious as Spike always claimed!" He shrugged carelessly. "Now, as I was saying, I was all for it at first. But you know Spike. There's not a plan on earth that he can't botch. I probably should have guessed it." Buffy stalked toward him, fists at the ready. "He went and fell in love with you!"

"Ohh..." Dru moaned, swaying from side to side. "My Spike's gone and left me forever."

"Got that right." Buffy stood over Angelus threateningly. "Say goodbye to your sire, too."

Angelus laughed delightedly. "I can see what Spike sees in you!" He rose swiftly, slamming a fist at Buffy's skull. She ducked just in time, leveling a series of kicks at him. "Bet you like to be on top," he leered, reeling backward. "It must be fun for Spike. Dru's the kind of girl you have to pin down and force."

"Oh, yes!" Dru squealed, clapping her hands. "Daddy wants to play!"

"Not right now, Dru," Angelus said patiently, exchanging a flurry of blows with Buffy. "Right now, I want you to go upstairs, find Faith, and tear out her throat."

"I shall paint a picture on my face with her blood," Dru said happily, and Buffy lunged at her.

A strong hand held her back. "Ah-ah-ah," Angelus cautioned. "This is Dru's party. And weren't you trying to save someone else?"

Buffy delivered a sharp slice down his wrist, making him drop her hand. "Spike can take care of himself."

Angelus's eyes glinted with malice. "I wasn't talking about Spike," he murmured silkily, and raised her by the throat and thrust her against the wall.

* * *

Jenny Calendar crept into Ethan's lab, eyeing the potion on the counter warily. It hadn't been hard to move past the commotion near the entrance and make it here, but now that she'd gotten there, she was uncertain what to do. She'd imagined a confrontation with Ethan, a showdown of magical attacks between dark and light, and she would emerge as victor or die trying.

But Giles had been wrong. Ethan had left the Academy once the seeds of chaos had been sown, and now they had no way of breaking the barrier, not when the only witch to shatter bits of it had lost the ability with the action. Willow had encountered a wall on her second attempt, tall and dark and completely impenetrable, and now their only hope lay in finding Ethan. And they were running out of time. Even as she'd slipped through the halls, bits of the ceiling were falling as the levels above them collapsed, and fire was beginning to spread on the first floor from the burning chunks of ruined construction.

"Oh, you must see the poetic justice here," came the silky voice, and Jenny stiffened. "You're all trapped in here at the whims of the vampires, with no choice but to fight or be killed. It's lovely, really."

"Ethan," she hissed, her hands raised for an attack.

He spread his palm, letting lazy dark tendrils emerge from it and hold Jenny in place. "Now, that's just rude," he said disapprovingly, moving over to her to pat her on the head. "Here you are trespassing on my laboratory, and you attempt to attack me!"

"Oh geez, you're right!" Jenny gave him her most apologetic face. "I'm just a terrible person." Her arms strained against the ropes of magic holding her.

"Aren't you naughty?" Ethan purred, moving to stand behind her so he could whisper into her ear. "Those ropes won't break. And now I can do whatever I want to you." He drew out each word with slow precision.

Jenny shuddered. "Oh, no! You're not going to do your sexy-dance, are you? Because I've seen that thing, and believe me, you wouldn't even subject _yourself_ to it," she said glibly, fighting to restrain the raw terror that was building within her. Ethan was nothing if not unpredictable, and being trapped and at his mercy was the single most frightening experience she'd ever had. And as her head was suddenly rained on by falling debris, she realized that she had very, very little time left, Ethan or regardless.

Ethan laughed gaily. "You are so very American. So vulgar...it's quite endearing." Cold, thin hands ghosted over the side of her neck. "What _ever_ shall I do with you, Jenny?"

She didn't give him the satisfaction of flinching. "Why'd you do it, Ethan? Don't tell me that getting suspended drove you off the deep end."

He sniffed. "Hardly. I'm far from dissatisfied with my situation. You know Rupert- he takes care of his loved ones. I'm still receiving full benefits without having to cope with a slew of dim-witted watchers-in-training pretending to be Harry Potter." He cupped her face in his hands, gazing at her. "No, I've been watching these vampires for a while now. It's been a source of great amusement, actually." He shrugged carelessly. "Did you know that one of the master vampires has had several students in his thrall over the past two years? He nearly even managed to turn one of them." He considered. "Though I suppose she never would have gotten that far if I hadn't taught her how to take the barrier down."

She shook her head, not comprehending. "Why?"

He smirked. "Because it amuses me."

She spat in his face. "You're twisted."

Ethan swiped the globule of saliva from where it was dripping down his nose and inspected it with interest. "Well, yes," he said mildly. "Haven't you noticed yet?"

She took a deep breath. "Take down the barrier. You've had your fun, now let your helpless pawns live."

Ethan shook his head, smiling. "Ah, but I promised Angelus a massacre."

"To hell with that," Jenny snapped. "Giles is counting on you. Your best friend...and he, and everyone he loves, will be brutally murdered. Don't you care about him?" she demanded. "Don't you care about anyone?"

Ethan licked his lips. "I know one charming little American I might let live," he murmured, his mouth inches from hers. "If she asks...properly."

Jenny closed her eyes, her shoulders sagging in defeat. "Do it," she whispered. "Please, just do it."

"Gladly," Ethan said with equanimity, and immediately fell backward, his eyes bulging in pain and stunned at the realization that she hadn't been talking to him.

"R-Rupert?" he stuttered, twisting to face the other man. The dagger that Giles had embedded in his back had hit its mark with all the precision of a watcher trained to find a vampire's heart. "But..."

"You said it yourself, Ethan," Giles said coolly. "I take care of my loved ones." Ethan fell to the ground, his face forever trapped in an expression of shock. Giles glared down at him with grim satisfaction. "And there's no one I love more than my students."

The ropes of dark magic dissipated, and Jenny stretched gladly, moving to stand with Giles. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not." But he was still staring at the corpse of his best friend, his expression unfathomable.

She tugged on his arm. "Come on. The barrier should have fallen, and I'm sure Anya's gotten the Council here by now. We have work to do."

He gave her a brief smile. "You made a wonderful diversion."

"I always do," she said before she could stop herself, and gave him a sheepish smile. "Nah, don't listen to me. It's been said that I'm occasionally inappropriate."

"I heard," and another smile crept across his lips. "You're _American_."

She batted at his arm playfully and they left with haste, leaving the man behind them to be swallowed up by flames as the ceiling fell in.

* * *

"Sometimes I really did wonder if he was playing you," Angelus remembered. "Darla was sure of it, but Darla always had a soft spot for Spike. Well, ever since we moved in here, anyway." His eyes gleamed with triumph. "Understandable, though. Spend long enough with that boy, and you'll eventually end up fucking the family whore."

"You're lying," Buffy choked out, kicking him in the stomach and breaking out of his grasp. "You're just trying to make me hate him."

"No, you're trying to create a white knight where none exists," Angelus informed her, dodging her forward attack and slapping her across the face hard enough to snap her neck backwards. She crashed her head against his gut, satisfying herself with the "oof!" he let out at the contact. "What do you think happens all night when we're lying around, nothing to do until morning?" he demanded, smashing her head against the wall. "We talk about our feelings?"

"I can just imagine it now," she croaked, tossing a flurry of punches at him. "'Oh, Darla, Dru, I'm so depressed. I'm such a sad, pathetic guy that I need to thrall a sixteen-year-old girl to sleep with me. And she even resisted the thrall because the idea was so repulsive. Oh, yeah, and if we're talking about inadequate, I was beaten by a sixteen-year-old boy who isn't even trained with a crossbow. What should I do?'" She narrowed her eyes at him. "'Maybe talk a lot, since that's pretty much all I'm good at!'" A kick connected, and Angelus was thrown back a few feet.

He laughed coldly, charging forward again, ignoring her blows and backing her against the wall threateningly. "So petulant, little Buffy. Were you hoping to distract me with petty taunts?" He sneered at her, his nose inches from hers. "This isn't the schoolyard we're playing at anymore. It's your life."

He smacked her again, and she saw stars.

* * *

"The barrier's down!" Giles and Miss Calendar came tearing around the corner, and Xander couldn't help but grin at the way Giles was huffing and puffing. Principal of the Academy might give him some cool points in his book, but in the end, Giles really was just an aging man. "Everyone out! Now!"

"It isn't light yet," the slayer argued. "I'm not letting these vamps out of the school!"

"We'll put up barriers."

"They haven't worked until now!" She dodged a glancing blow from a particularly large vampire. "Go, Giles. Take everyone out. I'll hold back the vamps."

"But that's suicide!" Xander blurted out, flushing when all the teachers turned to stare at him.

"In every generation there is a slayer," the slayer intoned, and the last few remaining potentials holding off the vampires recited with her. "She alone will stand against the vampires, the demons, and the forces of evil." She spun around, stakes in each of her hands, and caught two vampires hurtling toward her. "She is the slayer." She turned pleading eyes to Giles. "Please, Giles. Let me do what I was meant for."

"Narra..." Giles began, and Xander realized with surprise that he hadn't even remembered the name of the girl who was about to save all their lives. "I can't..."

"Don't tell me that," Narra said quietly. "You took me from my home, you brought me to your school, then you sent me away to face danger every night. All for one purpose. Don't you- don't you _dare_ take that purpose away from me!"

There was a silence marked only by the shouts and howls and thumps of battle and the vampires' confident taunts. And when Giles finally spoke, it was with great heaviness in his voice. "Let's go. Everyone. We'll leave this to Nar- to the slayer."

The potentials moved from the fight reluctantly, but Xander could see the relief on their faces. They didn't want to die, not yet. Not like Narra did.

He watched her fight, saw the determination and hopelessness combined on her face, and he envied the people who could die for a cause like that. And his eyes landed on one more dead body on the ground, and for a moment, he let go of his grief and let himself take pride in Jesse's sacrifice.

"Xander Harris, why are you still here?" It was Giles, his eyes soft beneath his glasses, and Xander noticed with a start that they were the last ones remaining.

He gave Giles a lopsided smile rife with meaning. "You know me," he pointed out. "I have a lot of trouble letting go of this place."

Giles's eyes crinkled in a sad smile, and he put a hand around Xander's shoulders and they walked out together.

There were four large busses parked in front of the school, but most of the students still stood outside, gaping at the slow destruction of their home as it lit up the night sky. The building was sinking within itself, bending and folding into the center and piling on top of other levels…utterly unsalvageable. And for a moment, Xander wanted to cry.

Cordelia came running to him, her eyes dark and annoyed. "Where's Jesse? I thought he was with you." Her lip trembled, the irritated façade dropped in a matter of seconds. "Why won't anyone tell me where he is?"

And then he really did weep.

* * *

Narra fought.

And on it went, and on it lasted, even as the school itself was staggering under the weight of seven floors of burnt construction, even as fire rained from the sky and her face was showered with blackened ash. On the enemy surged, and on she continued her defense, her only weapon a stake glowing with fallen embers.

She swung and released a thousand times, rarely hitting her mark precisely, not when she could barely see through bloodied eyes. But dust still filled the air and vampires still attacked their threat, blind with fifty years of rage and hatred, and the slayer fought on.

And on.

And on.

* * *

"I'm pretty sure we've talked about this before," Angelus said casually, squeezing her neck a hair too tightly for her to breathe. "And I kinda like the idea of my cock in your mouth, but knowing you, I'd probably get it bitten off." He made a face. "How about it? Up for some time with the only guy who's ever been with your boy?" He ground against her, leaving no illusions that he wasn't 'up for it'".

She sneered at him. "Yeah, let's do that! Or maybe..." He'd made a fatal mistake, getting so close, and she stomped down on his instep with savage might.

He howled, and she jumped on him again, fists pounding on his face with vicious blows. "You don't touch me!" she growled. "You don't touch Faith! And you sure as hell don't touch Spike!" She slammed the heel of her hand into his mouth, and he vamped instinctively, fangs slicing into a palm still red and raw from crawling through boiling-hot vents.

She cried out in agony, pulling her hand desperately, but he'd already sensed her defeat and rolled her over, pinning her to the ground. "Having fun?" he snarled, trapping both her hands under one of his own and cupping her cheek with the other. "Frankly, I'm disappointed. I thought you'd be more entertaining than this, but you're a spitfire. And not nearly interesting enough to...make docile." He leered at her. "I prefer the innocent ones, anyway. And you stink of dried Spike spunk."

"Go to hell," she spat.

"Maybe later," he said amiably. "Right now, I've got a potential to finish off."

His grip tightened on her chin and he regarded her with curiosity. She strained with her legs, her arms, her head, but Angelus was being careful now, and all she could do was push with futile motions.

He bent to lick a trail down her neck, and she stiffened. "Bet you'd taste perfect," he murmured. "All fire and fury and sheer terror in your blood. I could take you now, kicking and screaming and begging for mercy- but you don't beg, do you?" He turned an amused expression to her. "You'd make useless threats or just stay silent, determined not to give me the satisfaction of knowing you've given up."

She was frozen, the reality of her death hitting her. This wasn't Angelus taunting her from behind bars. He was here, unfettered, free to kill her, and no one would know. No one was going to save her.

And then it hit her.

At first, she mistook it for a surge of adrenaline, brought on by her approaching death. But it couldn't be, not when it didn't leave her heart pounding, when instead it filled her with a quiet confidence that warmed her. It was...

_Power_. Power like she'd never felt before, a strength that spread through her and loaned itself to great things, things she'd never known before; and yet, they all felt familiar, the essence of power old and strong and utterly female. There was nothing truly magical about it, not the sort of magic that the witches practiced, but it felt otherworldly in origin and use, and as Buffy lay still, contemplating her death, it became a part of who she was, and her identity transformed.

It was...it had to be..._slayer_.

She knew it as surely as she knew night from day, and she accepted the strength because it was now as much a part of her as her brain and lungs and heart. An age-old saga of girls and destiny, a mission until death that would last on beyond. The beginning and end of her existence, the very purpose of her life. She wasn't just a girl with potential anymore, just a blip on the great scheme of chances lost and passed by. She was slayer.

And it was time to fight back.

Angelus's hand on hers was strong, but nothing compared to the power she'd just received, and she threw him off her with newfound force. "Hiya," she said, flashing him a grin. "Wanna fight for real now?"

For the first time ever, Angelus was at a loss for words.

She shrugged. "Well, fine, and I was looking forward to using my witty repertoire. Guess you're not going to play with me."

She did a back flip- and lord, was she fast!- and landed right in front of him, sending a flurry of blows at Angelus. She miscalculated, underestimated her first punch and watched with glee as the blow didn't just make him fall back, but actually sent him flying across the room.

"It's good to be strong!" she said, laughing. After years of fighting creatures far stronger than she and besting them, going up against an equally matched opponent was a breeze. And she'd spent the past few years training for eventual slayerhood while Angelus languished in a cage, muscles atrophying from lack of use. It was no wonder that Narra had beaten even Spike, with this kind of power!

A shadow crossed her face at the thought of Narra, whose death was undoubtedly the source of Buffy's newfound powers._I'll use them well_, she vowed. _And I'm going to start by kicking some vampire ass._

Angelus was back up, his eyes dark and moody as he made a strategic retreat, and she shot toward him, knocking him off his feet with practiced moves. "Really? You were just going to leave our dance like that?" she demanded, mock-hurt.

He stared blankly at her. "Dance?"

She pouted. "Oh, _now_ you've outlived your entertainment value." She swung at him again, enjoying the sheer ease with which her power came. She'd complained about the exercises Gunn had made them go through years ago, exercises clearly meant for individuals far stronger than the potentials, but now she was grateful for the way they made it so much easier to fight in a dramatically more powerful body. Not that she could imagine ever having trouble with a body this strong, not when even a miscalculation could be lethal for her opponents. She was _born_ for this.

She had Angelus woozy and bloody beneath her when she realized she had no stake, no way of killing him. "Damn Gunn, confiscating my lighter," she grumbled, fisting a hand in his hair and slamming it against hard stone. _How to kill, how to kill, how to kill…? Stake, fire, holy water...decapitation?_ She wrinkled her nose with distaste.

Angelus, sensing her distraction, sent a weakened blow at her face, just enough force behind it to make it hurt, giving Potential-Buffy a headache and temporarily dazing her. Slayer-Buffy barely batted an eyelash.

She scrunched her eyes shut, grabbing hold of his head with one hand and his shoulder with the other; and as he rained ineffectual blows on her body, she reached out and pulled with all her might.

"Slayer?" Angelus whispered, and for the first time she could remember, there was fear in her voice.

And very suddenly, her arms were apart and Angelus's horrorstruck face was staring at her from one hand. She dropped it with disgust, watching as it burst into dust beneath her.

Finally, Angelus was no more.

She took a deep breath, staring down blankly at the vampire who had terrorized her and her friends for so long. There he was, dust. Just like Robin. Just like any other vampire would eventually become, in her hands.

With one exception, of course.

She turned the corner, wondering at all the unbarred cells around her. What had happened? Where were all the vampires?_Wherever Narra was,_ she reminded herself glumly. _I hope everyone else is okay._ Had Faith made it out before Dru had come for her? Was the school still on fire? She shivered. Was she the only potential left?

She pushed her doubts from her mind and headed for the door to Spike's room, quickening her pace as she did until she was running full-tilt at it, slamming into the metal door and bending it inward. She heard an answering bang as Spike did the same, and it took several more attacks before the door was finally misshapen enough for Spike to climb over the bent top and run to her.

"What happened to you?" he demanded, running light fingers along the bruises on her face. "Where is he? I'll kill him!"

"Beat you to it," she said, almost shyly, and Spike turned to look at her in wonder.

"You managed to- Something's different about you," he said slowly, his eyes taking her in searchingly. "Buffy..._slayer_?"

She nodded. "Seems like it."

"_Oh_." He kissed her tightly to him, hands roving along her back, cooling her heated skin.

"You gonna kill me now?" she asked half-jokingly. In some ways, the savage Spike she'd read so much about was still a mystery to her, one whose moves she couldn't quite predict.

He considered it seriously. "Nah."

"You sure? It would probably, like, send your rep skyrocketing to bag a fourth."

He shrugged. "Yeah, okay. But not until I'm done with you."

She beamed at him as they pulled apart. "And when would that be?"

"Never." His hand slipped into hers, and they began their escape together.

* * *

"Do you think...?" Anya started quietly from under Giles's arm. "Maybe she made it."

"No one else has been called," Faith agreed from where she sat cross-legged on the grass, watching as firefighters tackled the mess that had once been the Academy. "It's gotta be B."

"It's always been Buffy," Willow agreed, shooting Faith a shy smile from where she was curled up against her girlfriend sleepily. "She'll be here."

Xander sank to the ground beside Faith, helping a blank-faced Cordy join him on the grass. "Hi," he tried tentatively.

Faith stared fixedly at the burning ruins. "I don't need a babysitter, Harris. I don't need someone to keep me safe."

"I wasn't going to let you die in there!" he protested helplessly.

"Oh, so you'd rather that I had to live without you?" She glared at him. "That's just selfish."

"Faith-"

"Would you two shut it?" Cordelia snapped. "My god, Faith, don't be such a bitch. Your boy's a hero _and_ he's alive, so stop with the pointless anger already and grow up." She turned away from them, her red eyes blinking back tears, and there was an awkward, sorrow-laden pause.

Faith was silent, but she sank against Xander, gripping his hand so tightly that it was numb, and he tightened his own grasp on her. Theirs was a fragile love, but it was one deep enough to overcome both their stubbornness and their unwillingness to do things the other's way. And confident in that, Xander pressed a kiss to her head and she let her lips linger on his shoulder.

"Buffy!" Tara said suddenly, and they all sprang up, running to the two figures pushing up a patch of grass and climbing out of a secret exit.

"The Initiative entrance," Buffy explained, grinning as they piled hugs on her. "They all packed up and left ages ago. Did you guys know that the vamps all escaped from the basement?"

They laughed shakily, wrapping their arms around her again, more than a few somber faces among them. She frowned. "What's wrong?"

"We'll talk about it later," Xander said softly, squeezing her arm. "For now, we're just glad that you're here."

"Oh, and not just me," she said, remembering her companion suddenly. She slid out of the group hug, reaching for Spike's hand again. "Uh, guys? This is Spike."

They stared silently at the vampire, the only one they'd seen escape the Academy walls that night, most with dubiousness bordering on suspicion. Willow was the first to react, grinning nervously and sticking out her hand and shaking Spike's. "Uh...pleased to meet you. For real, I mean. Buffy's always talking to you, and I've seen you fight her a few times, so I kind of feel like I know you, but I guess you don't remember me-" She paused to take a breath.

Spike rolled his eyes. "Lemme guess. Willow."

"You got me!" Willow beamed, startled.

"Sl- Buffy talks about all of you all the time," Spike explained, sharing a soft smile with Buffy. And of the circle, the ones who hadn't before finally relaxed, if only from the love so clear in Spike's eyes.

Then Giles was hurrying to them, and Spike stiffened visibly, his hand tightening in Buffy's. "Buffy."

"Oh. Right." She made a face. "Do we have to? He's going to just be…difficult."

Spike smirked. "You make the rules now, remember? You're the indispensible one."

"If you say so," she said reluctantly, plastering a smile onto her face as the principal approached. "Giles, I was called!" she announced, beaming up at him.

He nodded with relief. "I did hope so." He frowned. "And you've brought Spike with you."

She nodded. "Yep. And let me get one thing straight." She held up their entwined hands. "Where I go, Spike goes. That's not negotiable." And she was stern suddenly, and older and mature beyond her years, the load of the slayer firmly in place. "He's going to fight with me for as long as I'm slayer. Got it?"

And Giles nodded reluctantly, though any of the students present might have sworn that there was a proud gleam in his eye at the idea of it. "I'll speak to the Council. They won't be happy, but I'll see what I can do about it. They're having enough trouble with Anya's existence that they might just consider Spike the lesser of the two evils," he added conspiratorially, and there was a dark humor in his expression.

"Good." Buffy wrapped an arm around him in a half-hug, her other arm still tight against Spike's as she did. "Thanks, Giles. You've been…you were a really great principal," she murmured, kissing him on the cheek.

He flushed noticeably, and tightened his own embrace around her. "And you were a delight, even when I thought you might drive me mad. All of you, in fact," he said, his eyes settling on the group suspiciously. "I should have kept a closer eye on you all."

"Probably," Faith conceded. "But it wouldn't have been nearly as fun."

They paused to watch as the building fell to its final death, the fire quenched at last but far too late, ashes fluttering down around them and the once great Academy nothing but a burnt husk. "What now?" Buffy whispered, gazing at the wreckage before them.

"You're the slayer now," Willow said wonderingly. "Shouldn't you be deciding that?"

"With the Academy gone, the slayer will likely be called upon for support," Giles put in.

"Yeah," Faith agreed. "This is your show, B."

"Yeah, Buffy." Xander said, and she could sense their expectant eyes on her. "What are we going to do now?"

She had no answers, so she just squeezed Spike's hand in her own and smiled with all the promise of a new beginning.

**The End** (for now…)

* * *

This is it: the end. There is a sequel in the works, and I'll try to put the first chapter up sometime over the next week or two- Spike and Buffy's story is just beginning here, and there are more than a few intentional loose ends that will come to play in Between the Thorns. Until then, though, I want to thank you all for sticking with me on this wild ride for the past eight months, no matter how often I withheld Spuffy from you. :) I've loved your feedback and appreciated each review- I don't know how I made it through sixty chapters straight, but I know that that has quite a bit to do with it. Thank you all.

And if you've enjoyed the story, I'd be grateful if you would leave me one last comment. :)


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